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Brian
Idrove by the police station on my way back from getting pastries and verified both Jason’s personal vehicle and his cruiser were parked out front. I left the envelope with the sheets I had printed at the library, my note, and my sugary offering on the table before checking all the windows and locking the door as I left.
I drove the few blocks to the hotel I was staying at to grab a shower, a quick nap, and fresh clothes. Sleep overtook me before my clean body hit the bed and dragged me under to oblivion.
A phone ringing woke me. The landline in my room was emitting a shrill ring, which could wake the dead from slumber, and I grabbed the receiver if only to stop the offensive sound. “Yeah?” I mumbled in my half-asleep status.
“Brother, we have an issue.” Brody recited our code for “Get your ass to a secure line pronto because shit is going to hit the fan” and hung up.
“Fuck me.” Those words cleared the fog from my head and had me moving in action in seconds. I drug out the black duffel bag I had hidden in the closet and extracted the tactical gear Brody had provided me years ago when I helped him on a stakeout. After changing into the black tactical pants and black T-shirt, I set the bulletproof vest aside, choosing to put on the black jump boots and black baseball cap, which rounded out my uniform. Taking out the 9mm he had given me along with two extra clips, I checked to make sure they were full before securing them in the appropriate loops at my back. I checked the 9mm to ensure one was in the chamber and the clip was full. Safety on, it was snug on my hip, locked into place. I didn’t know what was coming my way, so I packed a variety of items in my pockets, making sure each was within easy reach. The last thing I snagged out of my duffel before putting the bag away was the SAT phone Brody had sent me for times such as this.
It paid to have a brother who was a former SEAL and who now worked for the biggest security firm in the country—if you believed what he said. Either way, they got the latest and greatest tech almost before the military did. I didn’t know how and didn’t ask.
I glanced, for a moment, at the jeans and shirt I had laid out on the chair along with my best Stetson before I left the room. Genni and our talk would have to wait a bit longer.
Five minutes later, parked in an abandoned gas station’s lot, I cut the engine and dialed Brody on the SAT phone.
“About damn time, brother. Where are you?”
“I’m sittin’ at the abandoned Shell station at the east end of town.”
“Get your ass to Genevieve’s house. I’ll explain as you drive.”
I cranked the engine and took off back into town.
“Jason has his ass hemmed up with some bad guys. The biggest mob conglomerate in Chicago has been using your girl’s little town to filter guns and drugs through it. It’s basically a waiting port, and Jason is the point man. He takes money to hold their shit in the evidence lockers. Once a month, he meets three goons to exchange items, but recently they have been using him to wash money. How, I don’t know, but they bring him a few million, and two months later, he brings it back, except the last couple of months, he’s been skimmin’ off the top and comin’ up with excuses. The don isn’t happy, and Jason knows it. He was supposed to make it all square at the meet up last night, but he was still short. The don has sent his top three enforcers. They will be there soon if they aren’t already there. This guy doesn’t play fair. He goes for the family first, which means your girl.”
I floored the truck, blowing through stop signs as I made my way across town. I dared Jason to pull me over. I made it to Genevieve’s in record time, skidding to a stop in her driveway. The front door stood wide open, and the bright flowers lining her walkway were trampled to nothing. Petals were scattered, and there were gouges in the dirt surrounding them.
Glock in hand, safety off, I shut down all of my emotions and slowly approached. “Obvious signs of a struggle at the front of the house. The door is wide open.”
“Stand down. Perps may still be on-premises,” Carter’s deep voice resonated from my earpiece.
“Negative, there is no sign of movement in the house,” I replied. Like hell I was going to stand down. Help was at least an hour out, and a lot could happen in that time frame. My body hugged Genevieve’s car to the corner of the porch, and I was constantly sweeping my gaze from the door to the front picture windows to the side of the house and back, searching for any sign of movement or of where they could have taken her. “No sign of life at the front of the house. I am going in.”
“Negative, Evans, stand down!” Carter barked. “Reinforcements are two clicks out.”
“Not close enough.” I stepped over the threshold, peering right, front, then left. It was a dumb move. If someone was hiding behind the door, they could have easily disarmed me. I went with my gut, knowing deep down the house was clear, and they were well on their way to some remote location. Once I verified the house was empty, I clicked on the safety and holstered my weapon. “Come on, Genevieve. You’re a smart girl. Where’re the clues?”
The living room was trashed. The recliner was tipped over, the coffee table flipped, a lamp busted on the floor next to the end table. The food they must have been eating was strewn everywhere. The girls struggled, which was a good sign…I hoped. Genevieve’s purse was still sitting on a kitchen chair, her phone hidden just inside the zipper. That ruled out trying to track her through GPS.
“Damnit.”
“Evans, report. What did you find?”
“Her phone is sittin’ in her purse in the kitchen. GPS tracking is out.” I scanned the rooms again, only then noticing a corner of paper under the sofa. I bent over and tugged until it came free. Thick, confident black writing filled the page. My stomach dropped as I read the message.
Sheriff Whatley, if you want her alive, bring what is owed us. You have until sundown.
“Fuck!” I relayed the note to Carter.
“Do you have any clue as to where he would meet them?”
“The only place I can think of is where I followed him to the other night. I found out the road he turned down leads to an old abandoned quarry.”
“It is a start. Leave the note. He will not be far behind you since someone just contacted him. Wait and follow him. I will send back up on ahead to the quarry. Let’s hope you are right, or we may miss our window.” Carter began typing, and the line went silent.
“Fuck that.” I stormed out of the house and jumped back in my truck.
