The Ringer (21 page)

He glanced over at Army who appeared uninterested if the cop pulled the trigger or not. After a few more seconds ticked by, the rookie holstered his gun.

“I’m calling this in.”

“Good,” he told him. “And when you’re through, tell your captain you’re a friggin’ idiot.”

Relieved not to have any bullet holes in him, Jax tried to stand, but two agents surrounded him.

“Got the evidence, Jax?”

“No, but I…. Hey!” The agents handcuffed him and forced back to the ground.

“Then I got to take you in, Thornbird.” They stripped him of his gun and pushed his face further into the dirt. “Sorry, man. I warned you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, not at all surprised Army would have him arrested.

“It’s for your own good.”

He opened his mouth to give him a piece of his mind. However, something drew his attention up the hill.

“Agent Oswald, I have someone here. Says she has something for you.”

“Who is it?” He shouted back.

Frisked by a nameless agent who was none too gentle, he watched two bodies totter down to them. From what he could tell, neither one of those people were Lane.

“Mr. Jax, Mr. Jax!” a woman called out.

He tried to turn his face to the side to get a better view. The silhouette of her body came closer to the fence.

“Lane told me to give this to you.”

“Hand it to me,” Army said.

Someone shone a light at an agent, and Jax recognized a stocky girl, Maxie’s flunky. She shied away from the bright beams.

“Remember me? I’m LuLu,” she said, still covering her face. “She told me, very important, give to Jax.”

“Where’s Lane?” he yelled back.

“You lucky. She so nice,” she said, while she twisted the papers into small circles. Lulu forced them through the fence holes to someone on the other side. “I remember when you arrested my Maxie.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “You have no idea how sorry I am, but could you please tell me where you got those papers?”

“Valet,” she spouted. “I see her. We hug then she told me come find Jax. You very cute, and she so nice,” the woman repeated. “So lucky.”

“You certainly are lucky, Jax,” Army chimed into their bizarre conversation. “This is all we need. Uncuff him and let him up.”

“Gun,” he snapped as someone helped him off the ground. He rubbed his wrists like a common criminal and vowed to get even with Army.

“Go ahead,” the fed told his agent. “What are you going to do?” He didn’t even bother to glance away from the evidence that kept him glued to the white paper.

“Get my girl,” he told him, holstering his gun.

“Very Clint Eastwood of you, but I’ll drive. It appears you have turned into enemy number one around these parts.”

Jax glanced back at the rookie who had tried to shoot him. Sequestered off the trail and away from their group, the kid vibrated with hate.

“Mortiz’s shooting must have gotten out,” Jax said. Unfortunately, cop killer had probably been added to his long list of grievances.

“Yep, we caught the call over the radio,” Army told him. “To tell you the truth, we should get you back to the federal building. This place is getting heated, and when we arrest everyone on this list, it will be downright chaos.” He tapped Jax’s chest with the bundle of papers, a phantom of a smile shimmying across his face. Happiness. A flat-out, creepy thing to witness from Army.

“I probably should mention I popped Franco a few yards back.” He hitched his thumb in the direction he believed Franco’s body laid. “But first, we get Lane.”

He shook his head. Jax ignored him and headed toward the parked FBI cars farther down the trail to force Army to get a move on.

“Fine,” he grumbled and followed alongside. “Let’s put off the career promoting arrests and go save the dame instead.”

Entertaining chaos circled around him. Frantic to leave, Julian stalked the party for his star-struck wife. He’d lost her somewhere near the ice sculpture and those circus performers. Dispatch had radioed that his car was ready minutes before he lost communication with Franco.

Julian caught sight of Nina’s black and white dress trailing behind her. She made her way outside with some diplomat from one of those backwater countries. Nina giggled at the old man’s advances, forcing anger to spike in his stomach. Julian wasn’t sure, but he recognized her predatory leer. It changed her face from girl next door to vixen.

Soon, she would touch the diplomat’s arm and give him a nice eyeful of her cleavage. On the hunt for a new lover.

“Let’s go.” He snatched her away from her potential conquest.

“You’re hurting me,” she moaned, more in pleasure than pain.

“We have to leave.”

“But U2 is supposed to perform, and the guy from the television show,
America’s Next Top Voice
, Adam Covine,” she slurred.

Julian pushed through the guests and entertainment with Nina. He didn’t release his grip on her arm in fear it would be another thirty minutes until he found her again.

His phone vibrated in his coat jacket.
A bad sign
.

“Captain,” he barked.

Through the glass doors, he could see several federal agents swarming the front. Julian sought out a different exit while he worked on all of the routes in his head. Near the Ferris wheel, the crowd was heavy. If he crossed to the lakefront and grabbed a taxi, he would be home free.

“Franco’s down, Captain, and it’s not looking good. Jax Thornbird is in FBI custody, and they would like a word with you. Give me your location, sir. I’ll have a car come around.”

Julian hung up the phone.

Sweat beaded along his hairline. It slipped down his face and into his eyes. He began to panic.

“What is going on?” his wife hissed by his side.

None of this was his fault. The mayor forced him to turn a blind eye to those homeless men who went missing. The old drunk had promised not many would be used, but he’d lied.

An immoral plan that worked for a while had ended up crumbling under the weight of greed. There were only a handful of homeless who could be used for the organ transfer. Many were too mangled and ravaged from hard living on the street. Drafted into the mayor’s scheme, Franco and Mortiz had to find younger, cleaner donors Gang bangers, repeat offenders, but not kids from the heartland.

“Where the hell are we going?” Nina roared and snatched her arm away from his.

Thankful the music and the crowd made too much ruckus to hear her, Julian lunged for his wife. Nina jumped out of his reach.

“It’s all coming apart, isn’t it?” she wailed. Tears spilled down her sweet face. “All we worked for, all we’ve accomplished?”

“No, luvy.” He tried to comfort her. “I’ve got this under control.” He held out his hand, summoning her to take it. He had no time for her theatrics. If they hurried, they could make it home, grab their money stash, and be on their way out of the state.

From what he could tell, he had minutes to spare. More agents entered the building from the east.
We can still slip out if she would just cooperate
.

“No, no, no,” Nina said. “I told you to do it but make sure it couldn’t be traced back. I told you.”

“I was wrong, and you may punish me later, but for now, we have to go,” he begged. Julian searched her eyes but could ascertain nothing. No love, no hate; his wonderful young bride had closed herself off from him.
A fate worse than prison
. She suddenly embraced him into a warm hug.

“I’m sorry.” Nina kissed his lips. She pulled back from his body with his service pistol in hand. “You should have been a good boy and listened to Mama,” she said before she squeezed off three rounds into his body.

Darkness swam around the edges of his mind.
Ambition is bigger than even the smallest of people
.

***

Lane pushed the driver’s cap farther down onto her head as she waited for Parker to step into the limo.

“Circle Dustin’s block for ten minutes,” he ordered his chauffeur. “After we pick him up, take us to O’Hare. Are you listening, moron? Drive.”

She put the car in gear and drove farther down the driveway. Lane steered the car away from the party’s guests and pier workers before she stopped and shifted into park.

“What the hell? You idiot! I said take me to—”

She turned around to give her ex-husband a cool, hard look before flipping the cap onto the seat next to her. “How’s it going, Parker? Not too good, huh?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The healthy color of his Adonis skin turned an ashen gray.

“Long time no see, Langley,” he said with a smirk. “Are you done playing cops and robbers with that ass-hat Jackson? I hear he’s in a lot of trouble with the law, which is funny when you think about it. Thornbird was always a boy scout.”

“Can’t say the same about you.”

“Ah, hon, are you still sore I dumped you?” he taunted. “It’s a shame you can’t move on.”

Simmering anger began to wane. The driving burn that had gotten her through each new obstacle since she had found out the truth about Parker dissipated quickly. Face-to-face with the monster, revenge didn’t seem important anymore.

“Wow!” she said with more moxie than she had ever shown in their short-lived relationship. “You really are delusional. The way I remember it, I left you because you’re broke”—she pointed toward his crotch—“down there.” With those few words, she swiped the smile straight off of his face.

“You bitch,” he growled. “Maybe if you weren’t so fat I could get it up.”

“Tsk, tsk, Parker. No blaming my weight considering you clearly have a jones for the pre-pubescent set. I hear you don’t even like tits.”

“Who told you that? Thornbird? And you’re dumb enough to believe him.” He clapped with rich boy malice before he sat back in his seat. “Here, I believed you reached the pinnacle of your stupidity when you asked for a divorce. Who would have guessed you’d only get dumber?”

Parker Lockland was beautiful and rich; too bad he only had two good attributes. With no soul in his eyes, bad intentions were written all over his freshly exfoliated face.

For months she had tried to please him, even jumped through hoops to impress him, and for what…
love?
  Lane realized she had succumbed to the worst emotion, loneliness. It made one do the craziest things for the mere possibility of escaping it.

Jax, however, was everything Parker lacked—rugged, sexy, and best of all, kind. “Yeah, Parker, I must admit I am silly and ridiculous. I married you.”

“Maybe it could have worked, but you’re such a cow.”

“Bearing in mind my competition, I never stood a chance.” She laughed. “I have curves, and apparently you don’t like those,” she replied, hitting the nerve she had searched for.

Parker made a lunge for her. Instead of flinching back in terror, she raised the gun she had hidden.

“Shooting you would be my pleasure,” she warned him with her finger on the trigger and ready to fire. “Sit back.” After a moment, her ex relented. Since Parker wasn’t used to being treated in such a shoddy manner, the rush in her degradation of him exhilarated her.

“Look, I’m not here to rehash old memories about our failed relationship. But what made you think you could get away with my murder?”

“I didn’t want to kill you.” His face turned into a frown. She doubted it was born out of guilt. “Dustin messed up with….” He snapped his fingers. “What’s the skank’s name?”

“Tara?”

“Yeah, Tara. Granddaddy always told him don’t fuck the help, but Dustin never did listen. She started blackmailing him.” He shrugged. “Shit got out of hand then, wham, here’s me on the Internet cleaning up his mess, looking for you.” Parker reached into his pocket, and Lane raised the gun higher.

“Stogie.” He brought out a fat Cuban.

Everything about the man is illegal
. He took out a lighter to stoke the cigar.

“Your bone structure matched hers to a tee. Betting I could get you to lose weight or at the least lap band”—he puffed on his stogie as if he were sharing some old family tale—“a few months in the gym to tone you up, take a few pictures, then we would have the perfect double for Tara Penske’s corpse. Only after you killed yourself, of course.”

“Except you got greedy.”

“How so?”

“Before I left, I found an insurance policy for me. Two birds, one stone, huh, Parker?”

He blew out a thick cloud from his cigar and chuckled. It turned in to a deep, belly-menacing laugh, filling the car with his hate. Smoke poured out of his mouth while his straight, white-capped teeth mocked her. “You know what the funny thing is?”

Lane quirked her eyebrow, already bored.

“I bribed a judge. Technically, we’re still not divorced, which means story time is over, sweet pea.” Parker flooded her eyes with a thick hit of smoke. He made a quick play for the gun, burning her with the stogie.

Lane howled in pain and hit the horn before she yanked her body back and fired a round from her pistol into the car.

“Bitch!” he howled in pain.

Wherever the bullet had hit, it wasn’t good enough to kill the fight in him. Parker struck out and slugged her in the face. Instant pain forced her to lose her grip and drop her weapon. “I should have killed you when we first got married.”

Stunned by the pain from the blow he’d dealt to her chin, she groped for the gun. “Freak!”

With one hand he gripped her by the throat, choking her while he raced her to find the gun. Despite the immeasurable ache, she remembered what Maxie had told her and poked him in the eye.

“I hate so many things about you.” Parker rushed her again. Lane bumped the metal piece with the tips of her fingers. “It had nothing to do with your looks or financial status. It was your pious arrogance!” The more he spoke on the attributes he couldn’t tolerate, the tighter he squeezed her neck. “You might be easy on the eyes, but you could stand to lose some weight.” She struggled for air against his fist. “You had a few bucks from that shithole coffee shop. Pennies at the most, but you were happy. What the hell is wrong with you?”