Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (30 page)

“We know where Jax is. We
’
re headed to have a talk with him.”

“Leave the interrogation to me. I’ll make sure he
’
s snack food for the alligators.”

“I
don’t know….”

He cut in. “I know for a fact he
’
s involved with a big time drug dealer. My guess, that
’
s where the bodies came from. They want him, and they will use you to make the exchange before they kill you both.”

“I have to go. We
’
re stopping for coffee.”

“I brought coffee and rolls, which you
’
d have right now if you hadn’t snuck off,” he half-yelled, clearly trying hard not to unleash the full extent of his anger. “I
’
d like to know how you pulled that off.  Are you at The Bakery Café?”

I heard the engine of his truck turn over. “That would be stupid.”

“Can I reach you on this number?”

“I’ll call you if we learn anything new.”

“You think you can elude me?” Creole snapped. “You think I
’
m not going to find your ass?”

Fab jerked the phone away. “You
’
re making her cry, asshole.”

“I
’
m worried about her.”

“I suggest you call Didier. Listen to his advice and take it for once. We
’
ll keep in touch.”

“Put her back on.”

“Sorry, she
’
s looking out the window, trying to hide that she
’
s sobbing her eyes out. Remember that the next time you yell so loud you can be heard in the next state. I’ll tell her you
’
re sorry.” She hung up and pulled the back cover off, removing the battery and card.

“You laid that on a little thick.” I looked at her.

“Sounded totally believable,”
she smirked.
 

Chapter 37

“It
’
s a good thing we chose the delivery option,” Fab pointed across the docks.

During the road trip, I called Phil and she filled me in on her plan. Once I recognized the address she gave me, we drove by and scoped out Brad
’
s boat at the dock. It showed no signs of activity, meaning he had no plans of pulling out anytime soon. At least we didn’t have to worry that any of his crew members would recognize us. That done, I called Phil back and asked for Jax to be escorted out to our car.

Fab parked at the other end of the lot and pulled in backwards.

“If Brad shows up and catches us, it will be one more person angry at us.” I scanned the parking area, not recognizing any of the vehicles.

Fab perused the area.

“He just did,” she pointed. “Well, he showed up anyway. There
’
s Julie waving at Brad, and Liam lugging a big picnic basket. They must have plans.” Liam's new girlfriend, Lindsey, was a few feet behind, also dragging a couple of bags. “I like the girlfriend. She
’
s smart, told me she
’
s taking French for her language requirement.”

“Maybe I can get Lindsey to translate for me. I like her because her niceness doesn’t seem like an act to impress adults. Liam likes her, and she doesn’t look like she
’
s thirty years old.”

I held out my hand and pointed to Fab
’
s phone.

“You couldn’t just ask?” she sniffed.

“
You broke mine.
” I grabbed it out of her hand and called Phil. “We
’
re here. Where do we go?”

Fab snapped her fingers and motioned to the lone figure coming up the stairs; Jax looked healthy and tan. Another man met him at the top, flashing a badge as he slapped Jax in handcuffs.

“What the hell just went wrong? He got arrested,” I said in confusion.

“Calm down, that
’
s my guy,” Phil said. “Follow him. When he pulls over, you
’
ll get your man. There
’
s an upcharge if you keep the cuffs.”

“Cuffs or not?” I asked Fab.

“Oh yeah. It
’
ll keep his ass from jumping out in traffic. I
’
m not in the mood for a foot chase.”

I could hear Phil talking on another phone, letting her man know we were right behind him. The guy shoved Jax into the passenger side of his pickup truck, slammed the door, and turned onto a side street. He took care to avoid any main streets, instead turning right and left a dozen times before parking on a run-down patch of broken concrete at the end of a residential street.

Fab watched everything that went down, smiling at the use of cuffs; she nodded her approval at the circuitous route to the drop-off.

“We could do these jobs,” she said. “Wonder what it pays?”

“Kidnapping people?” I looked at her like she
’
d grown another head. “What if one of them ends up murdered? Or dies of fright in
your
Mercedes?”

“
Your ex doesn’t look happy,
” Fab said, stating the obvious.

Jax
’
s handler dragged him, kicking, out of the truck. Getting jerked around by his metal bracelets didn’t improve his manners. He unleashed his temper on the man. Knowing Jax, it was probably creatively profanity-laced.

“I’ll get him,” I said, as I got out and opened the back door.

Jax saw me wave and exploded.

“What the hell? You can’t call on the phone like a normal person?”

“Not when you keep it turned off. You and I both know you never listen to your messages!” I yelled back.

The other man had on the outfit of someone up to no good. Dark jeans, t-shirt, most of his face and hair covered with a baseball cap and large dark sunglasses to cover the rest. He shoved Jax in my direction.

“
You need help?
” he motioned to the car.

“Thanks, I can take it from here.” I waved to the man, who
’
d just made some sort of grunting noise and was now already halfway back to his truck.

“Hey Hon-knee,” I mimicked his version of the endearment. “Need a ride?”

The truck pulled up alongside the driver
’
s side of the car, tossing keys to Fab.

“Need the cuffs back. I
’
ve got some rope if you need it.”

“You promise to be good?” I asked Jax.

“This...,” Jax jerked on his cuffs, “was probably Fab's idea. Get them off.”

“Add them to our tab,” Fab yelled out the window and sped off. “
I don’t
trust your ass.”

She flipped Jax the finger.

“
You hurt my feelings.
” I smiled at him. “I think you
’
ve been ignoring me.”

He kicked the back of the seat.

“The cuffs were my idea,” I said. Better for me to take the blame and avoid an unnecessary shooting.

“This is your fault.” I wagged my finger. “I had no way of getting a hold of you.”

“My fault? Of course, every damn thing is all my fault,” he barked, his face red with rage. He continued to rant from the back seat. I lay my head against the headrest, finding it to be hard and uncomfortable. I
’
d wait him for him calm down.

Fab hit the steering wheel. “Shut up before I shoot you.”

I wish I’d said that!

Jax had finally wound down. “
Uncuff me,
” he snarled.

I looked at him over the seat. “
Gee, Hon, no!
”

Fab snickered.

“This isn’t funny.” He kicked the seat again.

“Ouch, stop it,” I whined.

“My wrists hurt. Is this some kind of kinky foreplay?”

Despite myself, I laughed. “Yeah, I
’
m climbing over the seat back, and we
’
re going to drive around town and do it.” I collapsed into more laughter.

“You
’
re not funny,”
he fumed.
“What the hell do you want?”

“You know how many times you
’
ve told me I
’
m not funny? Hurts my feelings.” I frowned. “You hate it when people repeat themselves. Well, so do I. So let
’
s go through this one more time. I want information.”

“Where are we going?” he asked. “The Cottages?”

He had calmed down somewhat, but I knew well enough to know he was still fuming inside. If he had the option, he
’
d take his chances and jump out of a moving car.

“Your days of sneaking into The Cottages are over. Where you end up depends on how useful you turn out to be. You
’
ve got choices here. A cushy stay somewhere, or I turn you over to undercover cops who will lose your ass in the system. You decide.”

“There is one more option.” Fab glared at him in the rearview. “I shoot you, which is what will happen if you don’t answer every one of our questions. I’ll have you cremated, no fuss, no muss. Ditch your ashes in the trash.” 

“Start at the beginning as to why you
’
re here. Maybe you forgot something the last time I asked nicely,” I told him.

“I partnered in a money-making opportunity, and it blew up in my face. My partners are dead. There were other silent partners, but I never met them and didn’t get their names. Since I didn’t have the money to ditch town, and because of my desire to not end up headless, I took fishing jobs. They
’
re good paying, and I needed time to come up with a plan. Who
’
s going to look for me out in the Gulf?”

“Skip to the good part,” I shot at him. “What kind of deal? Who are the people you
’
re running from? What do they want?”

“What happened to that uplifting story about getting your act together?” Fab asked, growling at the driver next to her.

A blue Mercedes stayed at her side as she blew up the interstate.  Now that she
’
d grown bored and wanted him to go away, he wasn’t taking the hint.

Jax mumbled something unintelligible.

“You already know we were transporting product to another state. Jones and Rod got the bright idea of shorting it a little to make some money on the side. After Jones turned up dead, Rod told me they had sold every last ounce. This job was sold as a three-man partnership. Another thing Rod let me in on after the fact: we were nothing but delivery guys.”

Fab looked over her shoulder and made eye contact with him.

“What was your part in this operation?”

“I
’
d help clean and pack for shipment, scrub the rental house, leaving no trace of a grow operation, and trek across the country to deliver it to the waiting buyer in Colorado.” He maneuvered around on the back seat and stared out the window.