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Bayou des Allemands, Louisiana
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 9:30 A.M.
Lying on the inflatable mattress on the floor of Corey’s fishing cabin, Jace closed his eyes, misery clogging his throat. They were in so much trouble. He and Rick had never been in so much trouble. Then again, they’d never done anything like what they’d done last night.
I did a crime. He hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t even known that was what Rick had planned, but he didn’t think the cops would believe him. Aaron had killed a man and Rick had tried to kidnap the prosecutor’s son. I was there. I drove the getaway van.
That makes me a criminal, too. Didn’t it? The cops were looking for Rick. And me. What am I gonna do?
Jace had called Corey for help after driving away from Cardozo’s house, expecting Corey’s fist—or worse. But that hadn’t happened. Yet. Instead, Corey had met them behind a deserted strip mall near their house, given them each a bottle of water, then silently handed them over to his best friend Bobby Landry, who’d taken the wheel of the minivan.
The next thing Jace had known, it was nearly dawn and he and Rick had been waking up here. In some kind of fishing cabin in the middle of nowhere. Corey had drugged them.
Jace wasn’t sure where to even start with that. His brother had drugged them and had taken their phones.
This felt... bad. Really bad.
Jace had no idea where they were. He’d never known this place existed. Neither had Rick. But it seemed like Corey spent a lot of time here with his friends, which would explain all the times Corey disappeared for days at a time, leaving him and Rick to fend for themselves.
The cabin was clean, at least. There was a living room big enough for a sofa, a chair, and the air mattress on which they lay. The kitchenette would have been fine to cook in if Corey had left them any food. There was a small bedroom and another “mystery” room. A locked room.
The front door to the cabin was locked as well. They were not free to leave. And even if they could get out of the cabin, they couldn’t leave the camp. They were somewhere in the bayou, based on the view of the river from the front window.
This was a prison, complete with a scary guard because Bobby was still here. Not only Corey’s best friend, Bobby was his business partner. Along with Ed, they owned Three Vets Renovation, where Jace worked sometimes. They never let him do anything important. It wasn’t like he could read directions, but he could read a blueprint. Mostly he just did demolition work and simple framing. Rick was usually too busy with school to work, but Jace didn’t go to school anymore, so he had lots of free time.
Bobby joked and grinned a lot at work, but there’d always been something about the man that made Jace avoid him. The former cop was intimidating when they weren’t in trouble. Today...
Bobby had claimed that the enormous gun he carried in a chest holster was for shooting gators, but he’d had this sly look on his face that made Jace sick to his stomach.
Bobby just wasn’t right. So when Bobby had told him and Rick to stay put, they’d obeyed.
When Bobby had told them that the cops had already identified Rick, they’d believed him.
When Bobby had said it was inevitable that the cops would ID Jace, too, and that if the cops got their hands on them they’d go to prison for twenty years, Jace had felt tears prick his eyes, but he’d refused to let them fall. He couldn’t show any more weakness. Bobby was enjoying how scared he was.
“When’s Corey coming back?” Rick asked Bobby, who was lounging on the sofa, scrolling on his phone.
If we could get his phone, we could call for help. But who would they call? The cops would put them right in jail. For twenty years. So Jace kept his mouth shut.
Bobby smirked. “You that eager to get your ass handed to you, boy?”
Rick’s jaw bunched, but his hands trembled. “What’s he gonna do to us?”
“Not sure yet. Don’t think he’s sure yet, either.” Bobby glanced at his phone. “We got visitors. Dewey’s here.”
Jace felt a trickle of relief. The old man was their mechanic, fixing Corey’s construction trucks and just about everything else. And he’s nice to me. Maybe Dewey could get them out. “How do you know?”
Bobby went to Corey’s front door, ignoring his question. “You two stay put. Do not make me mad.” He was gone then, closing the door behind him.
His whole body shaking, Rick went to the door and listened.
“Rick,” Jace hissed. “Do not make Bobby mad.”
“I won’t. But I want to know what’s going on. Corey could kill us both and feed us to the gators and nobody would miss us.”
Jace was not thinking about those gators. Or that Corey might actually kill them. But he wasn’t sure that Rick was wrong. “Dianne would miss us,” Jace said instead.
Rick snorted. “When she’s sober.”
