Girl in Trouble (An Alex Mercer Thriller Book 1)

by Stacy Claflin

  "Yeah, they—how did you know I was here?"

  "Don't worry about that. Do you need anything?"

  Alex clenched his jaw. "It's all over social media, isn't it?"

  "You just need to focus on—"

  "This way," Weiss boomed.

  "I gotta go," Alex said. "My lawyer kind of scares me."

  "You don't need anything?" she asked.

  He shook his head. "As long as I get my car, I'll be home soon." He hoped. "I'll be fine. You should go home."

  She looked like she might shatter.

  "Is Dad here?"

  Mom nodded, blinking back tears. "He's in the bathroom."

  "You guys go home. I'll be there before you know it."

  "Mercer," Weiss called.

  Alex gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried down the hall. Weiss motioned toward a door. They entered a tiny room with no mirrors or windows.

  "You can speak freely in here. Start filling that stuff out."

  Alex sat without a word and wrote his name on the first form. "How'd you get me out?"

  "I'll do the talking."

  If this was how he treated his clients, Alex would have hated to be an opposing attorney or a client on a stand.

  The silence in the room seemed to echo. The only sound was of the ball point pen as Alex wrote.

  "Do you understand the severity of the situation?" Weiss asked.

  "Yes." Alex had to stop himself from saying yes, sir.

  "Breaking and entering is stupid."

  "Okay."

  "Did I say you could talk? Don't do it again. It's going to be a lot harder for the authorities to get a warrant if you pull this kind of drama. In fact, you should leave everything to the police and the FBI."

  "Didn't Nick tell you—?"

  "I'm not done speaking. You're doing more harm than good. If you want your daughter found in time, let the professionals handle this."

  Alex slammed down the pen and glared at Weiss. "You mean the idiots who are running after the leads of a fake kidnapper? How long is it going to take them to figure out he's nothing more than a distraction?"

  Weiss sat across from him. "I agree. So does Fleshman—but that doesn't give you permission to pull crap like you did. Got it?"

  "What else am I supposed to do?" Alex demanded. "Just sit around and do nothing? Because I can't do that!"

  "Lucky for you, Fleshman wants to talk with you once you're out of here. I'm going to be focused on cleaning up your mess. There are a few loopholes I can work with, so this should be taken off your record, but I'm serious. Screw up again, and I won't represent you."

  Alex took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. How could he argue against someone who could get jail time off his record? He continued filling out the papers while Weiss rambled on about what Alex needed to do and not do to stay out of trouble. Basically, he wasn't supposed to break any laws. He could have just said that, but instead, he embellished on it for a full twenty minutes.

  Finally, Weiss took a breath. "I'm going to speak with Fleshman real quick. Finish that up, and don't go anywhere."

  "Sure." How far could he get with his car still impounded, anyway?

  The door slammed shut behind the lawyer.

  A few minutes later, Nick came in. He dropped Alex's coat on the table. "Your phone's in the pocket."

  Alex didn't look up. "Thanks."

  "Hey, about earlier—"

  "Don't worry about it."

  "They're coming down on me about how much time—"

  "I get it." Alex signed his name on the last sheet of paper. "Am I a free man now?"

  "If by free, you mean everyone is going to have their eyes on you, then yes. You're a free man."

  "Nice."

  "I'll be right back. Then we'll get your car out of impound. And by we, I mean you and Weiss. You can't come here to the station to speak with me anymore."

  "What about—?"

  Nick lowered his voice. "Not here."

  Alex nodded.

  "I'll take those." Nick took the clipboard and left without another word.

  Alex grabbed his jacket and searched the pockets, hoping he had enough cash for some drinks. Maybe enough to make him forget this night ever happened.

  He found his phone and turned it on. A new text from a blocked number.

  Just what he needed.

  May as well read it before getting to drinking the night away.

  You've finally proven yourself.

  Alex stared at the message. What did that mean?

  Free

  Alex started his car and drove away from the impound lot, never happier to be in his little beater. All he needed now was to get Ariana back, but that would be ten times more difficult since he had to stay away from Flynn.

  He kept trying to figure out what the newest 'threat' meant. He'd proven himself? For what, and how? It didn't make any sense. Not unless someone was messing with him. Maybe it wasn't Flynn. Had word gotten out about the threatening messages?

  His head hurt and the pain squeezed down to the base of his skull to his neck. He stopped at a light and rubbed his neck.

  A bar across the street caught his attention. That was exactly what he needed after everything he'd been through. Just a little something to help him chill—especially since he would probably have to explain his arrest to his parents. His headache squeezed harder.

  After the light turned, Alex changed lanes, and made his way to the bar. He felt himself relax, just knowing he was going to have something to drink. A cigarette sounded good, too—but could he handle just one? Quitting had been hell, and he didn't want to go through that again. On the other hand, his daughter was missing, he just got out of jail, and his sister was in the hospital. If there was ever a time he deserved one, it was now.

  He could just bum one off somebody and then have no more. He wouldn't give himself the chance to turn it into a habit. Just one to help him feel better. Oh, how much better it would make him feel.

  Alex pulled into the lot, craving the alcohol more as each moment passed. He parked and headed inside. The place had the same feel as Cole's back home, except that he didn't know anyone. And today, that was a good thing.

  He went up to the bar and ordered a beer.

  "Cash or card?" The gorgeous bartender with big blue eyes held out her hand. Some of her long, brown hair fell into her face.

  Alex grumbled, reaching into his pocket. That was one thing he liked about Cole's—trust. "Here." He handed her his card.

  "Thanks." She smiled and handed him the beer. "You seem familiar. Do I know you?"

  His heart sank. Of course she recognized him. He shook his head. "I don't think so. I grew up here in town, we probably saw each other as kids."

  "That must be it. Are you visiting or do you live here?" She leaned against the counter and looked him over slowly, appearing to like what she saw.

  Alex took a swig and held onto the taste a moment before swallowing. "Visiting my parents for a while."

  "How long?"

  What was this, twenty questions? "We have some family stuff going on, so I'm not sure."

  "You just seem so familiar."

  He shrugged. "That's how it is, growing up around here."

  "True. What's your name?"

  His stomach twisted. Once he told her that, she would know exactly who he was—the jerk who'd let his daughter get kidnapped.

  The door dinged, announcing a new customer. Saved by the bell.

  She glanced at his card. "Alex Mercer. Why does that sound familiar?" She tapped Alex's credit card on the counter and stuck it in a pocket. "We'll finish this conversation in a minute." She turned to the other customer and Alex took a deep breath.

  He was practically a celebrity these days, and it sucked in the worst way possible. He just wanted to forget about his problems, and not talk about them with the beautiful brunette who had probably been a cheerleader when he'd been smoking and drinking himself silly. She could've even been one of the girl
s who'd bullied Macy, sending her straight into the hands of an online predator.

  Alex took a deep breath, finished off the beer, and looked around the nearly-empty bar. There were a few other customers scattered around, but it was pretty dead. He glanced at a calendar on the wall and realized he didn't know what day it was. It was probably a weekday—he was fairly sure about that much.

  A different bartender came over—a dude several years older and full of piercings. "Another beer?"

  Alex relaxed, hoping this one wouldn't ask so many questions. "Yeah."

  He handed him the beer and leaned over the counter. "Leave Bella alone."

  "Excuse me?" Alex exclaimed.

  "I saw you talking to her."

  "It was the other way around, actually. I'm just here for the drinks."

  The guy arched a twice-pierced brow. "Just stay away from her."

  "Don't worry. I got enough to worry about."

  His eyes narrowed. "Good. How'd you get out of jail so fast?"

  Alex gave him a double-take. "What's your problem?"

  The dude leaned closer to Alex. "Bella runs the place, so if she doesn't kick you out, there's nothin' I can do about it. But the one thing I can do is tell you she's too good for you, so don't even think about it."

  "I wasn't." Alex grabbed his beer and sat at a booth, hoping the bartender got the drift before Alex had to punch him.

  A few minutes later, the brunette—presumably Bella—came over to him. "Don't let Scott bother you. He's my protective older brother."

  Alex gave a slight nod. "He's fine." And probably right about his sister being better off staying far away from him. "Could I get another beer? And maybe some shots of something."

  "Sure. Shots of what?"

  "Surprise me."

  "Okay." She laughed, took his empty bottle, and walked away.

  He looked out the window and watched the wind blow multi-colored leaves across the parking lot.

  "Here we are." Bella stood next to him with a tray full of shot glasses. There had to be ten of them.

  "I didn't mean that many."

  She winked and sat across from him. "I'll only charge you for the ones you actually drink."

  He grabbed the glass nearest to him and drank it. Vodka with a hint of something sweet.

  "You said to surprise you, so I did. My turn."

  Alex arched a brow.

  "My bar, my rules, sweetie. I'm on break." She picked a glass in the middle, threw her head back, and drank it. "Tequila with salt. Your turn."

  He picked one in front of her and swallowed it, not recognizing the taste. "Not often I find alcohol I can't recognize."

  Bella laughed and pulled some hair behind her ear. Her one ear had more piercings than Scott had all over his face and both ears. "That one's from Iceland. I forget what it's called, but a sexy blond thing introduced me and I brought back an entire case."

  "You run a bar and you don't know what it's called?"

  She pulled all of her hair around one shoulder and laughed again. "I can't pronounce it, and their alphabet is different from ours."

  "If you say so." He grabbed another glass and drank.

  "Hey, it's my turn."

  "You distracted me."

  Bella took two and poured them both in her mouth.

  "Hey, Bella," Scott called from behind the bar. "I think your break's over."

  "You the boss, now? I think you can handle the bar, bro."

  Scott glared at Alex and cracked his knuckles.

  Alex grabbed another glass and swallowed its contents. It was the Icelandic stuff again.

  Bella laughed. "This is fun. Wanna go somewhere else?"

  "Don't you have to work or something?" Alex grabbed another glass and drank its contents. It was too sweet. He cringed.

  She snickered and then glanced around. "There's what? Like three customers. Scott's got this."

  Alex looked over at her brother again. He shot Alex a deadly glare. "Maybe I should just go home."

  "You planning to drive?"

  "I'm sure not gonna walk."

  "Can I see your keys?"

  "Why?" Alex asked.

  "I just wanna see them."

  He knew where this was going. Cole never let him drive away drunk, either. Alex handed them to her. "Now what?"

  "I live in the loft upstairs. Sleep it off." She held his gaze.

  Scott came over. "I'll call him a taxi." He turned to Alex. "Don't worry. We won't have your car towed. It would suck to have that happen twice in one day, right? You can come get it later."

  "Go away before I fire you," Bella said.

  "Do you know who he is?" Scott exclaimed.

  She looked him over. "He's so hot, I don't really care. Go away."

  "He's Alex Mercer."

  Her eyes widened. "Wait. Macy's little brother? Why didn't I make the connection before?"

  Alex felt about two inches tall. "I should get going."

  Bella shook her head. "No, you shouldn't."

  Scott's nostrils flared. "Yeah, you should."

  "That girl in the miniskirt is waving you over," Bella said, nodding toward a girl who was busy texting.

  Alex's phone rang. It was Zoey.

  Scott grabbed the phone out of his hand and accepted the call. "Hey, Zoey. Alex needs you to pick him up at Bar Bella over by Fifth and Forest Drive." He paused and laughed. "Yep, he sure is. Just come get him." He ended the call and handed the phone back to Alex.

  Alex glared at him and put his phone back.

  Bella got up and picked up the tray. "Stop being a jerk and do your job."

  "I am doing my job—protecting my kid sister."

  "Well, I wish you'd stop."

  "He's a criminal!"

  "Why? Because his kid's missing?"

  "Because he was involved."

  Alex slammed his fist on the table. "I was not!"

  Scott stepped closer. "Then why does everyone say you were?"

  "Because they're stupid." Alex raised his fist.

  Bella grabbed Scott's arm and dragged him away while balancing the tray of empty shot glasses. She turned to Alex and mouthed, "He's off tomorrow."

  Furious

  Zoey slammed the car door shut and stared at the bar, shaking her head. Sure enough, Alex's car was near the front. He gets released from jail, and that's where he goes?

  A cold breeze blew by, giving her the chills. Zoey zipped her coat as far as it would go and headed inside. A guy with shoulder-length hair and piercings everywhere made eye contact and then flicked a nod toward the other end of the bar.

  Zoey glanced over to see Alex sitting with Bella Martin, who had been the lead in every school play in middle school and high school. She was just as pretty as always, and she appeared to be quite happy talking with Alex.

  Jealousy ran through Zoey. She tried shoving it aside—why should she care? She was supposed to be mourning her broken engagement, not worrying about her ex-boyfriend. Yet she wanted to smack the smile right off Bella's face.

  She took a deep breath and walked over to their table. "Let's go, Alex."

  He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot and with dark circles underneath. He looked like crap, but then again, she probably didn't look any better than he did.

  "Want to join us?" he asked.

  "No, it's time to get you home."

  Alex turned to Bella. "She's no fun, either."

  Anger tore through Zoey. "Fine. Get yourself home. Hope you don't hurt yourself." She spun around, hoping he would chase after her, but also hating that she wanted him to.

  "Wait, Zo."

  She spun around.

  He stumbled out of the booth. "Don't go."

  "We have more important things to do. If you'd rather stay here and get more plastered, be my guest."

  "You're right." He turned back to Bella. "It's okay if I leave my car here?"

  "As long as you need to."

  Zoey held out her hand. "Why don't you give me the keys?"


  Alex gestured toward Bella. "She has them."

  "I'll take them." She extended her palm toward the brunette.

  Bella shrugged and dropped the keys onto Zoey's hand. "Let me just run his tab, and then you guys can get going."

  "Whatever. Come on, Alex." They followed Bella to the counter, and then a few minutes later, climbed into Zoey's car.

  "Nice wheels." Alex closed the door.

  "What were you thinking?" she exploded.

  "I just meant I like your car." His words slurred horribly.

  She rolled her eyes. "I mean in there. The bar. Getting yourself drunk."

  "Just wanted a drink."

  "A drink?"

  "Fine. A few. Then Bella offered me some shots. That girl can hold her liquor."

  Zoey bit back a rude comment. "We have to focus on getting Ariana back, and you go and get yourself drunk and arrested."

  "You mean arrested and then drunk."

  "Alex, what's wrong with you?"

  He stared at her. "You're pretty when you're mad. Always have been."

  She clenched her jaw, but part of her enjoyed the compliment from him. "Would you focus?"

  "You're prettier than Bella, you know."

  "Don't try to distract me."

  "I'm not."

  "Tell me what's going on, or I'm going to drive you to your parents and have you tell them."

  "You think I'm worried what Mommy and Daddy think of me?"

  "Isn't that why you moved away?"

  "That was because I didn't want you thinking I was a loser." His face paled. "Forget I said that. I didn't say it."

  Zoey stared at him. "You moved away because of me?"

  "It's more complicated than that."

  "You were worried what I thought about you?" Both her anger and defensiveness were melting faster than she cared to admit.

  "Can we just go? I don't want to talk about anything right now."

  "Well, we need to."

  "Actually, we don't."

  They stared each other down until Alex looked away. "I was close to finding something on Flynn."

  "What do you mean?"

  "The FBI is so focused on that Sanchez fake, they won't look into the dude who actually took Ari. If they're going to take him seriously, it's up to me to find the evidence."

  "And getting drunk is supposed to help how, exactly?"

  He folded his arms. "It's not, but I can't go near Flynn or his work or his house without going to jail again. That's why I went in for a drink."