Diners, Dives & Dead Ends (17 page)

At this point my father
shifted in his chair and attempted to calm the tension.  “All right, let’s all
just relax.”

My mother’s gaze shifted to
him.  “I’m perfectly relaxed, John.  Do I not look relaxed to you?”

My father, being a man of
reasonable intelligence, shut up and sipped his whiskey.

Jacks’ eyes were shiny with
unshed tears.  I decided to take pity on her.  After all, she tried to do a
nice thing, brokering peace between my mom and me.  She didn’t realize it would
never happen.

“That’s enough, Mom.  She
was just trying to help.”  My mother sucked in a breath.  “Thank you for
trying, Jacks.”  I set my glass down.  “Now, I’m going to go find Scotty.”  I
left the room and climbed the stairs.

I stepped into his bedroom
with its race car wallpaper.  Scotty, still in his costume, attempted to climb
on top of his dresser.  His Spidey sense must not have been working because he
never heard me enter.  I wrangled him off the dresser, made him put on his
jeans, sweater, and tennis shoes then chased him down the stairs.

Dinner was awkward and quiet. 
So pretty much business as usual.  Scotty talked about school, my dad and Allen
talked about work, and my mother ate miniscule bites of food, refusing to speak
to anyone except my gap-toothed nephew.

I helped Jacks clear the
table while the men went to the den to watch Sports Center and Barbara went to
the living room with Scotty.

 “What were you thinking, Jacks?”

“I don’t know.”  She twisted
the napkins in her hands.  “I just wanted the two of you to get along.  Now
Mom’s mad at me.”

“She’ll get over it.  If you
want to make her get over it even faster, grovel.”  I loaded the flatware into
the dishwasher.

“Seriously, Rose, how do you
stand it?  It makes me crazy when she freezes me out like that.”

“I got used to it.  It was
preferable to kissing her ass.”

Jacks winced. 

“Sorry,” I said, “I didn’t
mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right.”  She
leaned against the fridge.  “I’m a people pleaser.  Always have been.”

I hugged her tight.  “You’re
a good person and a great mom.”

“Thanks.”

We finished the dishes and I
left the kitchen and headed downstairs where Allen and my dad watched TV.  I
said goodbye and my dad gave me a distracted pat on the arm.  Then I went
upstairs and found my mother sitting alone in the living room, her laptop open
on the sofa next to her.  She looked up when I walked in.

“I’m taking off.”

“Oh.”  She shifted
slightly.  “Any word on Axton?”

“Why do you want to know?”

She sighed heavily. 
“Honestly, can’t I even ask a simple question?”  She shook her head and took
off her reading glasses.

I decided to be honest for
once.  “No, Mom, not really.  I feel like I need a lawyer before I answer anything
or you may use it against me later.”

“Fine.”  She turned her
attention to her computer.

But I wasn’t quite finished
with her.  Normally, I let things slide off my back.  It’s so pointless to
argue with her, that I don’t bother.  Sure I get pissed at her more aggressive
than passive digs, and stew about it later, but rarely do I give her the
satisfaction of getting a rise out of me.  Tonight though, I was worried about
Jacks.

“Listen.”  I waited until
she looked up before continuing.  “I know you’re pissed—”

“Language.”

“Fine,” I conceded, “I know
you’re
angry
at Jacks for arranging all this.”  I wiggled my finger
between the two of us.  “And for interfering.”  I paused to see if she would
respond.  If you could call an icy stare a response, then I guess I got one. 
“She meant well.  And I don’t want you to be mean to her.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what
you mean, Rosalyn.”

“Huh, I’m sure you do,
Mom.” 

I found Scotty in his room,
playing with his little racecars.  “Play cars with me, Aunt Rose.”

“Sorry Sport, not tonight. 
How about a hug goodbye?”

He hopped up and ran to me,
reaching out his arms.  I caught him and swung him high before pulling him into
a tight hug.

Back downstairs I kissed my
sister on the cheek and thanked her for dinner before leaving.  

“What did you say to Mom?”
she asked.

“What makes you think I said
anything?”

“She looks mad enough to
spit nails and you’re the only one who inspires that look.”

“Good.”  Hopefully she would
be so angry with me for calling her out she’d forget all about Jacks’
interference.

It started to drizzle, so I
flipped on the windshield wipers and hoped my plastic bag window was strong
enough to keep the inside of my car dry. 

As I drove home, the drizzle
became a full blown storm.  The temperature dropped and the heater in my car
blew out lukewarm air.  But so far, the plastic held up.   

I pulled into my parking lot,
and as I got out of my car, I covered my head with my purse and made a run for
it.  But before I taken more than a few steps, a large, black SUV with tinted
windows slammed to a stop in front of me. 

Henry jumped out of the
passenger seat and grabbed my arm, then yanked me toward the car.

I dropped my purse and tried
to break away from him as cold rain stung my face.  I screamed and pulled and
slapped at him.  It didn’t do me a bit of good.  Henry simply scooped me up and
tossed me into the back seat next to a bald giant dressed in black. 

He looked at me with pale,
expressionless eyes.  “Boss wants to see you.”  He didn’t blink.  It was
creepy.

“Well, I don’t want to see
him.”  I tried to open the door, but they must have engaged the child locks
because it wouldn’t budge. 

Henry climbed into the front
seat.

I glanced out the window at
my purse lying on the wet pavement and hoped they didn’t notice it.  If Henry
or his henchmen looked inside, they would find all my clues.  The list of names
Eric decrypted, the numbers from Packard’s phone, the list of businesses owned
by NorthStar.  Also, if they weren’t planning on letting me go, finding my
purse might convince the police I had been kidnapped.  Always a long shot with
Huntingford’s finest, but a shot just the same.

“Let’s go,” Henry said to
the driver, who looked like his doppelganger. 

My seatmate leaned toward
me.  I instinctively pulled away, but he jerked me to him.  He blindfolded me
with a black cloth from his pocket, then grabbed my wrists and bound them in
front of me. 

Terror slowly crept up my
chest and I thought I might hyperventilate.  Getting shoved into a car by Henry
was frightening.  But not being able to see where I was going or what they
might do to me?  That took my fear to a whole different level.  I had never
felt so helpless.  I shivered in spite of the vent blowing warm air directly on
me.

No one said anything during
the ride and they didn’t turn on the radio.  Rain lashed against the car.  That
and the engine were the only sounds I heard.  It felt like we were moving
pretty fast, so I assumed we were on the highway.  When we stopped, I tried to
gauge how long we’d been on the road.  Maybe thirty minutes at the most.  I
desperately tried to keep my brain engaged so fear wouldn’t take over.  If I
could keep a level head, I might get out of this. 

The door next to me opened
and Henry hauled me out, slinging me over his shoulder.  I thought it was
Henry.  It certainly smelled like Henry.  Rain pelted me, and for a crazy
second I thought about what I must look like with my butt bouncing next to
Henry’s head.  My size eight butt.  I stifled a giggle, realizing I was close
to hysteria.  I swallowed the inappropriate laugh and reached up with my bound
hands to tug at my blindfold.

“Don’t do that.”  It was the
guy who’d been sitting next to me.  He followed behind us. 

I dropped my hands and
continued to flop against Henry’s back.  I knew we’d walked into a building
when the rain stopped hitting me.  I heard a door open and Henry lowered me to
my feet.  I swayed a little and felt his hand on my arm steady me.  He removed
my blindfold, but left my wrists tied.

I blinked at the light and
looked around.  I was in a study.  A personal library, really.  Two tall
windows flanked a stone fireplace along one wall.  Shelves and shelves of hardback
books lined the other three.  An enormous wood desk stood in front of me, empty
except for a laptop computer. 

Henry pushed me toward a
tufted leather chair in front of the desk.  “Sit.”

I dripped a trail of water
on a red Persian rug until I reached the chair and sat down.  Henry stood
sentinel behind me and it made my stomach clench. 

Crossing my legs, I bounced
my foot up and down.  Exactly how Axton had acted the last time I’d seen him.  I
forced myself to stop fidgeting, but my stomach was still doing back flips and
my heart raced. 

After several minutes the
door behind me opened.  I twisted my head and watched BJ enter the room. 

“Thank you, Henry. You can wait
outside.”  The Boss wore black today.  Black jacket, black shirt, black pants. 
He just needed a villainous mustache to twirl and his ensemble would be
complete.

He sat in the chair next to
mine.  He stared at me with those gold eyes as he worked the thin rope at my
wrists.  When my hands were free, he rubbed them, his long elegant fingers
using just the right amount of pressure from my fingertips to my pulse point. 
The contact of his skin against mine made me shiver.

“Are they sore?”

“What the hell do you care?”

He stood and moved behind
the desk and sat down.  Placing his elbows on the desktop, he steepled his
fingers against his lips.  We sat in silence.  He stared at me with no
expression on his face, and I fought the urge to squirm like a naughty school
girl brought before the principal.

“What am I going to do with
you, Rose?”

I didn’t think he really
expected an answer, so I said nothing.

“I’ve warned you to mind
your own business.  Several times.  I’ve never done that before.”

Guess he was a little pissed
I went to the police station.  I chewed my bottom lip as my gaze travelled
around the room.  “Have you read any of these?”

“Pardon?”

“The books, have you read
them?”

He glanced around at the
books lining the walls.  “No.  I hired a decorator.”

“Oh.”  For some reason I was
disappointed.  I could sort of picture him here, in a smoking jacket and
slippers, reading a book with a snifter of brandy at his elbow.  Does anyone
actually own a smoking jacket?  Where do you buy a smoking jacket?  I almost did
that inappropriate laugh thing again, but took a deep breath to calm myself.

“I like you, Rose, I really
do.  But not enough to let you fuck up what’s taken me years to build.”

“I don’t want to fuck up
anything, I just want to find Ax.  Then you can keep doing whatever criminal
bullshit you do and leave me alone.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t do
that.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what
that meant.  Was he going to kill me, torture me, lock me up? 

He reached into the top desk
drawer and pulled out a manila folder.  He hesitated just a second before
laying it on the desk in front of me.

I stared down at it, shaking
my head.  I didn’t want to see its contents.  I knew it couldn’t be good news. 

“Go ahead.  I know you’re
curious.”

With trembling fingers I
flipped open the cover.  Inside were eight by ten color photos.  I snatched
them up and thumbed through them.  Scotty on a swing at school, my sister in
her car, my mother and father eating in a restaurant, Ma pouring coffee at the
diner, Roxy standing outside The Carp.  The last picture was of Axton.  He had
a gag in his mouth, his eyes wide with fear.  My gaze flew from the photo to
BJ.

The pictures wobbled in my
shaky grip.  My skin grew clammy, a wave of nausea swept over me.

His cold eyes studied me,
like I was a lab specimen he couldn’t quite figure out.  I think I started to
blackout because he calmly stood up from behind the desk and came to stand
beside me.  He plucked the photos from my hand and gently pushed my head
forward until it rested between my knees.  

“Take deep breaths,” he
said.  “In and out.  That’s it.”

I did as he said and bright
dots sparked behind my eyes.  I sat like that, breathing in and out, his hand
rubbing circles along my damp back, until the dizziness passed.  I took one
last deep breath before lifting my head back up.

“Slowly, now,” he said, his fingers
still caressing me.

I raised my arm and tried to
twist away from him.  “Don’t.”

Our gazes met as he slid his
hand up to the back of my neck, through the tangle of wet hair.  He squeezed my
nape gently before he stood and walked to his desk.  Behind it sat a crystal
decanter filled with liquor.  He poured a small amount into a matching crystal
glass and brought it to me.  “Drink this.”