G-Men: The Series (42 page)

Someone dropped down behind me. I felt his warm breath on my neck as his hands worked to free mine.

“Be still, baby. I’m here. Everything’s going to be alright.”

I nodded.

My heartbeat quickened as he freed my hands then crept around to get my feet untied. He was in my line of vision then.

I saw him all in black, moving swiftly and precisely getting the rope untied so that I could finally stand when directed. My ninja-Slate was here.

“He’s coming right back,” I whispered.

“How many?”

“Just Slash here. Darrell took a truck to Fort Wayne.”

“Yeah, he won’t be back,” Slate whispered with a grin. He pulled the small handgun from behind him and pressed it into my hands.

“Hang on to this. Be ready to use it if you have to, Sammie. Stay put for the moment.”

Then he was gone. He moved quietly and lithely over to the door that Slash was due to walk through any moment.

I clutched the gun behind me so it still looked as if my hands were tied behind my back. I heard Slash’s footsteps outside of the barn. The latch to the door slid back and he opened it, crossing the threshold into the barn.

In a nanosecond, Slate was on him, kicking him to the ground with one swift movement. Slash was caught off-guard, but not for long. He leapt to his feet and pulled a chain from his back pocket. He wound part of it around his hand then snapped his arm and I saw the ball at the end of it land against Slate’s neck.

Oh my God, whatever was on the end of that ball had cut into his neck. I saw Slate put his hand up to the wound to stop the flow.

Oh God! I have to do something!

Slash was using Slate’s momentary pause to his advantage. He was winding the chain back around his hand, preparing to deliver another blow.

Slate was creeping towards him, but I wasn’t sure how dazed he might be from the shock of that blow. It looked like it had landed damn close to his jugular. I didn’t have time to debate it. I needed to do something.

I brought my arms around from my back. The revolver was clutched in both hands. My fingers and wrist were still numb. I didn’t trust my aim to shoot. The two men were too close, circling one another, ready to strike. I aimed for the window and pulled the trigger. The shot rang out. Glass shattered, giving Slate the split second he needed to bring Slash down.

He was on top of him, pulling the chain from his hand and slamming the ball at the end of it against Slash’s face and head. I crept closer to him and the look on Slate’s face was one that I’d never seen. It was pure rage. He wasn’t going to stop until Slash was dead. I couldn’t let that happen.

Slash wasn’t fighting back any longer. He was out cold.

“Slate - he’s out,” I said loudly. “You need to stop and take care of your neck. You’re bleeding badly!”

He didn’t stop. He continued to pummel Slash with his fists, over and over again. Slash’s face was a bloody pulp. I was going to be sick.

“Eric!” I shrieked. “For the love of God, please stop. For me please. I love you. Please, stop!”

He froze and looked up at me slowly, his eyes meeting mine. I needed to see the sanity return to them. It hadn’t yet.

“Don’t you see, Eric, if you kill him, he’ll never have to face what he’s done? You’ll be giving him the easy way out.”

“He killed Laney. He was prepared to kill you. I can’t let him kill the people that I love.”

“But you saved me, baby,” I said, putting my hand out to him. “Now let me save you, okay? I need you and Landon needs you.”

He took my hand and stood up, stepping over the motionless body of Slash, pulling me to him. Blood was still trickling from the gash. I needed to get something clean wrapped around it.

“Don’t move,” I instructed him.

I ran over to where they’d pulled my car into the barn and popped the trunk open. My wardrobe bag with my dancing outfits was still in the trunk. I pulled a clean spandex monokini with long sleeves from the plastic garment bag. I grabbed the flashlight from the wooden bench and headed back over to Slate.

“Hold this,” I instructed handing him the flashlight so that the beam illuminated his face and neck. I wrapped the clean spandex material around his neck, securing it by tying the sleeves together.

“There,” I said, relieved that the bleeding had stopped. “You’re going to need some stitches. You’re lucky that didn’t hit a quarter of an inch over.”

“Sammie,” he said quietly, “who the hell’s Landon?”

I patted my rounded belly. “Your son, silly.”

He shook his head, pulling me close so that he could kiss me.

“I love you, Samantha.”

“I love you, Eric.”

Our lips met in a tender kiss just as Taz barged through the barn door, his weapon drawn. The multi-colored lights of multiple law enforcement vehicles were flashing on the horizon.

“He needs to get to the hospital now, Taz.”

“Got it,” he said, motioning for the others to come in.

^{chapter 58}

It was September 3rd, Slate’s birthday.

I’d invited my parents over for dinner. It was about time they met the soon-to-be father of my baby. Lindsey was coming, too. She was bringing Adam. I’d asked her to arrive prior to my parents. I needed to let her know what was going on. She was heading back to Cornell the day after tomorrow.

Slate was healing up. His neck had been stitched up and the doctor agreed that he’d been lucky. Katy was coming for dinner, too. I was nervous making the preparations for this ‘family’ get together that wasn’t really a family yet.

All of the arrest warrants had now been served. Everyone that needed to be arrested had been, with the exception of Jack and Susan. Slate said it was just a matter of time for them.

I’d put my house on the market. I didn’t need to be rambling around in this huge house and worrying about upkeep. My life had changed and I truly felt it had changed for the good. I’d no need for ‘trappings.’ The equity would finish paying for Lindsey’s college tuition.

I’d learned some extremely important life lessons this past year. I’d learned about love, about trust, and about taking control of one’s own life. I wasn’t sure how things would end up with Slate and me. What I was sure of was that I loved him and that he loved me. For now, that was enough.

I knew that we would welcome this baby boy together. I just needed to know that Lindsey would be okay with that.

I was on the phone with Becky, explaining what had happened after the incident in that barn less than two weeks ago. I’d come as close to death then as Slate had. I truly believed that Slash would’ve killed me. I didn’t even know, at the time, that Slate suspected him of killing his younger sister, Laney.

Slate told me that when Slash told him on the phone that he’d ‘slit’ my throat, he knew with all certainty that he was Laney’s murderer. He said that was Slash’s signature preference when killing.

Becky listened quietly as I revealed everything that had been discovered when they made the bust in Fort Wayne when Darrell had shown up at the storage unit. Come to find out, the ‘goods’ that Jack had sold them happened to be a shitload of teddy bears for the launching of the ‘Toys for Tots’ run in November.

OMC, along with Ohio Iron bikers, were meeting in Fort Wayne to start the run that would have taken these stuffed bears, along with legitimate toys to Charlotte, North Carolina. Slate said that the stuffed bears had been torn open. A sealed container holding a kilo each of cocaine had been discovered. There were a total of thirty kilos.

“How did that benefit Jack?” Becky asked.

“Well, Slate explained that Jack had been the connection for the cocaine. He’d negotiated a fairly good price from his connection in Chicago: around $12,000 per kilo. Jack had purchased twenty kilos. He then commissioned the chemists at Banion to cut it with some sort of baking soda and magnesium/silicon mixture. After that, the twenty kilos became thirty kilos.”

“Oh my God,” Becky replied. “He pulled a ‘bait and switch’ on the bikers?”

“Apparently so, he figured they’d never find out because they were moving it to the Charlotte area where a kilo of cocaine sells for around $27,000. So Jack invested $240,000 for twenty kilos, and then he sold thirty kilos to the OMC for a total of $441,000. He netted a $200,000 profit; no one was any the wiser.”

“So, that means that Jack and Susan fled the country with about a million dollars in total?”

“At least,” I said. “Slate says they were pretty good at laundering the money, so it could be more. He says, eventually, they’ll surface. It could be years, though.”

“Wow,” she sighed. “How’s Lindsey with all of this?”

“She’s come to terms with the harsh reality of the man her father is, I guess. Her relationship with Adam couldn’t have come at a better time. Did I tell you she received a letter from Jack?”

“No shit?”

“He must’ve paid someone to mail it from El Paso a couple of weeks after he crossed the border. It was brief and to the point: he told her he was sorry; that he loved her and always would, and to make better choices than he did.”

“Oh, wow. Small consolation for the pain and misery he’s caused everyone,” she replied. “So, what now?”

“I’m having my family meet Slate this evening. I’m going to let Lindsey know about us. I really think she’ll be okay with it.”

“Well good luck with that. Call me tomorrow and let me know, okay?”

“I sure will.”

I was in the kitchen, marinating the chicken breasts when Slate got home. He came over and gave me a warm kiss, hugging me as he always did when he got home.

“Sammie, we need to talk,” he said.

That’s never a good thing to hear from someone you love.

He took my hand and led me to the living room, pulling me down on the couch next to him.

“My job here in Indianapolis is over. I’ve got to wrap things up and report back to D.C. next week.”

My heart thudded. I’d known this day would come eventually, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.

“What does that mean for us?” I asked softly.

“I guess that depends on you. I love you. I want to marry you. I want you with me in D.C.”

“You know that I love you, Slate.”

“Call me Eric, please? When we’re having talks of this nature, it just helps if you call me Eric.”

I smiled at him. “I love you Eric, but there are some major obstacles with all of this. You have to know that.”

“Like what?”

“Like our age difference, for instance. You may think you want this right now, but marrying a cougar might not be so appealing a few years from now.”

He broke into a wide grin, his dimple appearing.

“Sammie,” he said, “my age was part of my cover for this investigation, just like my ‘biker’ persona. I’m not turning twenty-seven today.”

“You’re not?”

He shook his head, grinning like a fool.

“You mean I’m not a cougar?”

He laughed his beautiful, sexy laugh and pulled me to him, kissing my face.

“Technically, I think you’re a puma,” he said. “I turned thirty-two today. So, you see? You’re just a smidgeon over four years older. No biggie, right?”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I meant to, babe. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

“I suppose,” I replied. “But there are other issues besides that.”

“What else?”

“What you do for a living. I’ve seen first-hand how dangerous it is. I don’t know if I could handle always being worried about you, or the things you have to do as part of your cover.”

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” I said, my cheeks turning rosy.

“You mean the thing with Garnet?”

“Yes.”

“Well babe, it’s not like that’s in my job description you know? I basically let that happen because I was pissed off at you.”

“Oh really? I thought it was a way to get inside info?”

“There are other ways. I wouldn’t do anything to lose your trust,” he stated. “As far as being in a dangerous line of work - it comes with the job, at times. I can’t promise you that I’ll never be in danger again. It’s what I do, Sammie.”

I knew that I loved Eric no matter what. I loved him for everything that he was. I wouldn’t change a thing about him.

“What would I do in D.C?” I asked.

“Be my wife and my son’s mother,” he said with a grin.

“What if I want to be more than that? I mean, that’s what I was to Jack, and you can see how well that worked out.”

“Babe, if you want a career, you’re free to have one with the obvious exception: no dancing.”

“I can handle that restriction,” I said, “as long as I can still dance privately for you.”

“That’s a must,” he said softly, leaning in and covering my lips with his, kissing me gently.

“I’m not even divorced yet,” I said, pulling away. “How do I go about doing that when I don’t know where to find Jack?”

“I already checked into it. You can file for a divorce on the grounds of desertion and abandonment. Notices of the filing have to appear in the hometown paper four times within a period of a year. If Jack files no answer or counterclaim to the suit, your divorce is granted at the end of the one year period.”