No Feign No Gain

by Carrie Ann Knox

  My heart raced as she disappeared from view a moment. Is she charging in the back door? I didn’t understand why she had suddenly gone all renegade on me. We were supposed to be a team.

  But a moment later she reappeared, turning the corner with a fur ball tucked under her arm. She slipped quietly back out the gate and made her way to the vehicle, nonchalant. I noticed Benton put the car back in gear as he watched her return.

  “Drive?” he said as soon as she stepped in.

  “Drive,” Sloan confirmed.

  He hit the gas and we were down the street and out of view in seconds. I looked down at the fluffy little creature lying calmly in her lap, watching us carefully with little brown eyes.

  “What’s happening?” I said, my own eyes wide. “What are we doing with that?”

  “Oh, this little guy’s not a that. His name’s Mr. Pennington.” She grinned up at me. “And he’s going to help bring Grant right to us.”

  ***

  “So how was this better than just knocking on the door, again?” I eyed the dog on Sloan’s lap as we sped across town, making sure my face read the appropriate amount of skepticism.

  “We would have no leverage,” she replied. “What reason does he have to tell us anything, much less the truth? I, for one, want some answers.”

  “Oh, I see.” The reality of the situation began to finally sink in. “So he has to talk before he gets his beloved dog back. He’s the leverage. He’s our hostage.”

  “In a way.” She picked up Mr. Pennington and snuggled him to her face. “But he’ll be a spoiled little hostage. And hopefully it won’t take very long. We can set up a meet right away.”

  “A meet?” I was always paddling hard behind, trying to catch up.

  “Somewhere nice and public. And on our own terms.”

  “And how do we set that up?”

  Sloan looked down at the dog as she stroked his head “Let’s just say I set up a new line of communication. One that cuts Jackson out this time.” She raised her eyes to mine. “Grant’s new cell phone. I left him a burner. We could call, but . . . that could get awkward. So I’m thinking we just text. Leave him messages on where and when.”

  “And you think he’ll just drop this whole charade and show up?”

  “Absolutely.” Sloan grinned. “If he wants his dog back. His little game is over. And he’ll come to realize that very soon.”

  TWENTY

  “Well, well, well,” Grant called out as he approached the meeting spot. We were stationed in the middle of the 21st Street dog park, nice and public. No place to hide. “If it isn’t the long-haired Hardy boys, come to save the day.”

  “Stay right there, Grant,” Sloan ordered. “Don’t come a step closer.”

  Grant’s grin had a new edge to it I’d never been privy to in my time with him. Something a little sinister. “Or what, exactly?”

  I scooped up the fluffy little ball next to me. “Well, you don’t get your dog back, for one.”

  “Mr. Pennington,” he gushed, reaching his hand out as he moved toward the dog in my arms. The dog gave a little yip at the sight of his owner.

  Sloan took a step forward, her arm raised in warning. “I mean it.”

  “Okay, okay.” Grant raised his hands in surrender and stepped back again. “So what now, tough guys? You figured me out, I guess.”

  “Really didn’t take that long.” Sloan glanced to me. “Gotta be the shortest extortion in history, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Or the dumbest,” I added.

  “Hey, I was working under a lot of pressure.” Grant’s voice was almost whiny. “There was no time to get it perfect. I think it wasn't so bad, given the circumstances.”

  “Which were what, exactly?” I said. “What would make you use your coworker like that, for such a silly little stunt?”

  Grant gave a little chuckle. “Oh sweetie, it’s not about you. Nothing ever is.” He shrugged. “I was about to be thrown out. My parents cut me off and our sad little stipend certainly wasn’t getting me by. And even that was about to end. Since you took my permanent job and all.”

  “So the whole thing was a con? To trick us into convincing your family you were in danger?” I was in utter disbelief. “Who even comes up with something like that?”

  “Actually, those mob guys got the whole thing started. They cornered me one day and offered me good money to keep an eye on you. Dig up a little dirt on what you’re up to.”

  “So you were spying on me,” I said, disgusted. “Betraying me for some cash.”

  “It’s not personal. I told you I was hard up. I’m not the kinda guy who gets evicted. It was a temporary solution. Very temporary, because as it turns out, I was not very good at it. You wouldn’t give up anything useful. And when they saw how I got caught taking pictures, they knew you’d be suspicious.” He shrugged. “Plus I left you that nasty finger, but sort of forgot to put out the note with it. So you’d get the message.”

  “Don’t worry, we got the message. I found it later.”

  “Oh good.” He smiled, proud of himself. “See, it did work. I was hoping you might poke around in my stuff. Helped lead you right to the desired conclusion after all.’

  “Which was that you got involved somehow, and that ended in you being taken for ransom?”

  “Precisely. Which is exactly what you thought, was it not?”

  Sloan and I shared a look. As frustrating as it was, he had succeeded for the most part.

  “Until we wised up, thanks to your sloppiness,” I retorted. “So the mob dumped you after you were no help. Then what? How did that turn into your master plan to steal from your family? And use us to do it?”

  “You gave me the idea, you and your little crime-fighting duo. I told you, I was desperate. Once I heard the news about your secret hobby, I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. And the possibility that there might be men after you, too . . . well, that just gave it plausibility, now didn’t it?”

  “So your idea was to use our curiosity to manipulate us,” I said.

  “Sure. But don’t forget your interest in saving the day. I think you have a little superhero thing going on, wanting to right the injustices of the world. Or something.”

  I stared back, amazed at the stranger before me. I had been trying to help this person. Risking everything in the process.

  “And don’t forget guilt,” Grant added, directed at me. “Admit it, you felt responsible for me going missing. I bet you thought it was all your fault.” He stuck his bottom lip out mockingly.

  My stomach boiled with rage. To be manipulated and used by someone so callously.

  “I wanted to use that guilt to help me get out of a jam, is all,” Grant continued. “Just tell me, would it have worked? Were they going to pay up? I’ve been dying to know.”

  I stepped a little closer, pleased to deliver some bad news. “Your family wanted nothing to do with you or your little game. And clearly we should’ve listened to them in the first place. They knew you were full of it.”

  Grant shrugged. “Ah, well. Guess I overestimated their concern. And your powers of persuasion. It was worth a shot, anyway.” He reached his hand out. “Can I have my dog back now?”

  I took a protective step back. We stared at him, silently pondering the depths of the guy’s derangement. He seemed to have no remorse for anything he’d done. So much for bringing him to task for his actions.

  But there was one way he could pay a penalty.

  “Why would you risk your career on something like this?” I gazed at Grant directly. “Once the director knows what you did, you’ll surely be fired. And then you won’t graduate. It can’t be worth it.”

  “Who’s going to tell them, you?” He smirked at me knowingly. “Go ahead. Sounds pretty far-fetched to me. You might sound like a crazy person.” He shrugged. “Not that it matter
s. I’m about to quit anyway.”

  “You’re leaving audiology? Why would you come this far to quit at the end zone?”

  Grant gave a quiet laugh, one eyebrow raised. “I’m not leaving the field, my dear. I already have all the hours I need to graduate. Paperwork's all done, I’ll have to head home for graduation soon. I don’t know why I was considering staying the last couple weeks on that measly pay anyway.”

  It had never occurred to me. He must’ve been ahead of me in the patient contact hours requirements before he got there. He really did have nothing to lose. At work, anyway.

  I tried to hide my disappointment. “But what if we had ignored the warnings, and gone to the police anyway? You could’ve been in serious trouble.” I was suddenly regretting my decision to avoid the authorities. Is it too late?

  “Like you would’ve taken that risk. I knew there was no way.” He raised his arms in a wide shrug. “But besides, all I did was leave a note on my own computer. I was just an amateur filmmaker playing around, and everyone else got the wrong idea. They would never charge a wealthy white boy for his artistic pursuits, now would they?” He grinned, satisfied. “People like me get YouTube channels, not criminal records.”

  I wanted to smack the smirk right off his smug face.

  “Either way, it really wasn’t a bad idea,” he continued. “I like to think it would’ve worked. And with more time, you could’ve convinced my family to pay up. You just needed more convincing yourself.”

  “Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Sloan said.

  “Actually, it could,” Grant slowly replied, still looking at me. His gaze turned intense. “You could still go through with it, you know. Get them to send the money, to save their son. It’s an awful lotta cash.”

  A harsh chuckle escaped my throat at the thought. “And why in the world would I want to do something like that?”

  “You can’t go back to work.” He shrugged. “They may let you back for your last week or two, pretend everything’s fine. But they’ll never keep you on permanently after all this. Too much liability. You bring chaos, far as they’re concerned.” His eyebrows knitted with faux concern. “You know that, right sweetie?”

  A sick dread settled in my stomach as I considered his words. He was probably right. The signs had already been there. They were looking for an out.

  And I would soon be starting my career with nothing.

  “But we could split the money instead,” Grant continued, jolting me out of my mental spiral.

  His face was serious as he took a tiny step closer. “It could be seed money, to start your own practice. You don’t need them. You could go out on your own, with none of their rules. No more grunt work. I know that’s what you really want.”

  Of course it is. For the briefest of moments I imagined the possibility of being my own boss. In my own place. No more judging looks from coworkers. Free to do as I pleased, office hours or not.

  But the idea was beyond even my wildest dreams at this point. It was ludicrous. And I was no criminal.

  They were both watching me closely as I shook myself from my reverie. I straightened my shoulders and gazed directly at Grant, ready to put a damper on the new hopefulness in his eyes. He really thought he could buy my integrity that easily.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” I said, my voice acidic. “But that’s never going to happen. Besides, you’re my ticket back into their good graces.”

  His face darkened. “How do you figure?”

  I finally allowed myself a little smile. “Once you tell them all about your devious plans, I’ll be off the hook. Things’ll eventually settle down with the mob case, and my life’ll go back to normal, especially with you gone. I’m not worried. About my future, anyway.” I pulled a phone from my pocket and waved it a little. “So, ready to start your confession?”

  Grant’s brow furrowed in skepticism. “And why would I possibly do that?”

  “That’s why we’re here, right?” Sloan asked. “You want to trade for your dog back. Surely you knew there would be some concessions.” She gave him a dubious look and shrugged. “Or Mr. Pennington can come hang out with us for a while longer. Your call.” She glanced over and eyed the furball. “Then again, maybe he’ll just go to a pound out of state. We’ll see.”

  His lips pressed together as he watched us, considering. Finally he thrust out his hand. “Fine, give it to me.”

  I tapped to open a recording app and handed the phone over. Grant hit the start button with a sigh and began talking. He started at the beginning, telling his story in his own biased, snide way, but getting the overall point across.

  I figured we would be able to cut out his final commentary accusing us of our own kidnapping and extortion plot with his dog. I didn’t think anyone would need to know how the sausage was made. That was our trade secret.

  “There.” Recording complete, Grant handed over the phone. “Happy?”

  I took it and paused to glance at Sloan. Her face told me she was as satisfied as I was. It was the best resolution we were going to get. She reached to tousle the dog’s head, then nodded at me. I did the same and stepped forward to hand him over. I was going to miss the little guy.

  “Mr. Pennington,” Grant gushed as he pulled him gently into his arms. He snuggled the dog to his face a moment, then settled him into the crook of his arm to face us again. “Well, I guess our business here is done. But it’s not too late. Let me know if you change your mind. Trust me, my family’s got plenty of dough to spare. Might as well get a piece while we can.”

  He turned to walk away. After only two steps he whipped back around to lunge at me, yanking the phone from my hand. Before I could react, he was leaping over the small fence and sprinting across the park, Mr. Pennington tucked against his chest.

  My eyes were wide as I glanced to Sloan and made a move to follow. She grabbed my arm to stop me. My eyes got wider with confusion.

  “He’s getting away,” I said, panicked. With the key to saving my career.

  She just stood there, watching. At peace.

  “Aren’t we going to do something?” I gaped in horror at his retreating figure. All that work, for nothing. Back at square one. Or worse.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sloan finally replied, turning to me. Her voice was calm. “Why do you think I had you record that on a burner?”

  I stared back, trying to understand. Hope flickered. She must have something up her sleeve.

  “We don’t want his canned, coerced confession,” she continued. “We have the whole story, from the beginning. I was recording on my phone since we got here. Every last whine and excuse.” She pulled out her cell phone, pressed stop, and handed it toward me. “You’ll just play that for your boss, and everything will clear up just fine for you in no time. Trust me.”

  I turned back to watch Grant finish his sprint across the park lawn. He was a pretty fast runner. I would’ve never caught him. He slowed when he reached the parking lot and saw we weren’t on his heels. I turned away, tired of the sight of my apparent new nemesis.

  A moment later a screech of tires made us both turn back. A white van had appeared in the lot, headed rapidly toward Grant. The side door slid open as it rolled and two men in dark clothes and ski masks jumped out and sprang after him. Grant immediately turned away on instinct.

  He was fast, but not that fast. Within seconds they had wrestled the dog from him and were dragging him toward the van. Mr. Pennington gave a scared little squeal as they shoved them in and slammed the door behind them. The van took off again immediately, the screech of the wheels echoing through the park as it disappeared.

  Shocked, I looked around. The meeting was intended to be public, but the sleepy park was no longer very populated. And no one had seemed to notice the incident that had lasted only seconds. We were the only witnesses.

  Sloan’s breathing was ragged and erratic,
just like mine. What just happened? We both stared at the now-empty spot in the parking lot, not comprehending.

  Finally she looked up, her eyes wild. “Did that really just happen?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. And if it did, was it real? How do we know?”

  “Exactly. It could be another one of his tricks. Right?” She began to sound desperate. “Right?”

  We both jumped when male voice appeared from behind us. “Sloan?”

  We spun to find her recent date, Christopher. He looked different in navy athletic shorts and a gray t-shirt. A basketball was tucked under his arm. “What are you doing two doing here?”

  “Not right now, Christopher.” Distracted, she waved him off.

  He stepped closer. “But—”

  “I can’t,” Sloan snapped. “We’re in the middle of something. Please.” The stress oozed from Sloan as she turned her back.

  “Okay.” He took a few steps away, still facing us. “But I just wanted to let you know . . . your buddy Sal appreciates all your help on this.”

  Our heads snapped toward the retreating figure.

  He called out with a knowing grin as he turned to jog away. “All that money’ll sure come in handy for legal expenses.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  “That lying weasel,” Sloan exclaimed, seething with disgust. “I can’t believe I ever considered that rodent. For even a second.”

  “A nanosecond. What a slimeball.”

  I slid the carafe toward her and began fixing up my coffee, ecstatic to be back in the familiarity of our booth at Joe’s. Too many things had been changing and happening too fast. I needed the comfort of our second home. Despite our promise to Lucas to stay away.

  Once again, we hadn’t bothered with disguises. But I was no longer fighting it. Let us be spotted. If they wanted to find us, they would. They certainly already had been.

  I glanced up to see Leo approaching, his typical smirk on his face and laptop bag on his shoulder. He slid in next to Sloan.