Salvaged to Death (15 page)

The first thing Sadie saw when she walked into Bateman’s dumpy little bar was Laurel. She sat on the same stool, a toad waiting for a tasty fly. Her eyes lit when they landed on Sadie and quickly fell when they realized she was alone. Sadie perched on the stool beside her.

“What’s shaking, Laurel?”

“Anything I need to,” Laurel replied. “Where’s your cousin?”

“He had to take an emergency call,” Sadie said.

“What kind of emergency does an investigator have?” Laurel asked.

“I don’t know. It’s a mystery,” Sadie said. “Not much going on here tonight.” In other words, Argus wasn’t there.

“Never is,” Laurel said. She turned and ordered another beer.

“Anything for you?” It was the same bartender from the other night and he wore the same clothes as her previous visit.

“I’m hoping for a better offer,” Sadie said, smiling.

“In this town, you’d better keep hoping,” he said. He indicated the tip jar where the few dollars she had deposited failed to multiply.

“It’s a hard knock life,” Sadie said. Hal would have laughed, and even Luke would have understood the
Annie
reference. The bartender merely shrugged and resumed washing dishes.

“Tough crowd,” Sadie said. She turned and faced the room to match Laurel’s pose.

“That’s Bateman for you,” Laurel said.

“So get out, move away,” Sadie coaxed.

“Maybe I will,” Laurel said, but her tone held no hope. “I get so sick of waitin’.” She turned her attention on Sadie, frowning. “What are you still doing here?”

“Tying loose ends,” Sadie said. “To be honest, I do a lot more than Hal lets on.”

“It’s a man’s world,” Laurel mused. She seemed more melancholy than last time. Sadie wondered if she had started her drinking binge earlier, but belatedly remembered that her boyfriend was recently deceased. Of course she was morose. Who wouldn’t be? Before she could open her mouth and ask about Johnny, Argus appeared in the door, flanked by his friends. Sadie half expected them to try and jam through the doorway together and get stuck, but they trod through single file. Argus strode to her with purpose and wasted no time with niceties.

“Let’s go somewhere and finish what we started before,” he said.

“I couldn’t possibly leave before I’ve had a drink,” Sadie said.

“Fine, get something and let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to buy me a drink?” she asked.

“Women,” Argus bemoaned as he reached for his wallet. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having,” Sadie said. He ordered two bottles of the cheapest malt liquor.

“Big spender, Argus,” Laurel observed.

“Shut up, Laurel. Drink up, Sadie,” Argus said.

“Let’s go to a table,” Sadie said. “It feels more romantic that way.” Sadie had never struggled to hard to keep sarcasm from leaking through before. She hopped off the stool and led the way to a table. Argus plodded behind her, his boot steps echoing heavily on the cheap vinyl floors. She sat and pushed out her lower lip, pouting. “Argus, you’re not being very nice tonight. I’m not sure I want to go somewhere with you.”

“I’ll be nice,” he said. “I’ll be real nice.” The way he made “real” into a four-syllable word made Sadie’s skin crawl.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom. I hope you’re better behaved when I return,” she said. She purposely set her bottle of liquor on the table in easy reach of his meaty paws. Just in case he didn’t get the hint, she gave it a little shove in his direction and stood. “And I’ll only have one of these because I really can’t handle my liquor.” She could almost see the light bulb go on over his head. He was already reaching for his pocket as she walked away.

Sadie took her time in the bathroom. If Argus moved as slowly as his father, he would need plenty of leeway to accomplish his task. When she returned, Argus sat with a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He was practically giggling with anticipatory glee. “Drink up,” he commanded, shoving the bottle of liquor under her chin.

“Will you find me a song on the jukebox first?” Sadie asked. “I love music. It puts me in a good mood.”

For a second, he looked ready to rebel. Then he glanced at her booze, smiled devilishly, and ambled to the jukebox. Sadie switched their drinks and dumped half of her new one under the table, being careful to avoid her shoes.

“That was the best malt liquor I ever had,” she said when he returned.

“You better finish it,” he said. He reached for his and downed it.

“I couldn’t possibly. I already feel a little tipsy, like it’s going straight to my head.”

He set his now-empty bottle down and smacked his lips a few times. “Let’s go.” With a belch for good measure or possibly luck, he led the way to his truck, not bothering to open her door.

“What a tall truck you have,” Sadie said as she heaved herself inside. It was like completing the pole vault in gym class.

“I souped it up myself,” he said as he gave the dashboard a loving caress. If he showed a woman half as much care as he gave his truck, he would still have a long way to go to be a gentleman, Sadie thought.

“Where’s the seatbelt?” she asked.

“I cut ‘em out,” Argus said. “Seatbelts are for wussies.”

With no seatbelt and a Roofied driver, Sadie began to rethink her clever plan. They had only driven a few miles when the truck dipped to the side, spinning its tires on gravel as Argus fought to get it under control. He shook his head like a dog trying to shake off water.

“Let’s stop here,” Sadie said.

“Nah, I have a pretty spot by the lake in mind.”

“No, here, it has to be here. Right here, right now. I’m ready, Argus. Pull over.”

“We’re on the main road. A car could come by.”

“I like to live on the edge. Pull over or I’ll jump out right now.”

He pulled over and put the car in park, reaching for her. She held up a hand. “Let’s talk,” she said.

“You said you were ready,” he reminded her. His blinks were growing heavy.

“Ready to talk,” she said. His head began to sway gently from side to side. She tapped his cheek a few times. If the drug was working this quickly on a man of his size, it might have killed her. She slapped his cheek hard, and his eyes flew open. So much for her carefully detailed line of questioning. She would have to cut to the chase. “Argus, did you kill Johnny?”

“Orders,” Argus mumbled. “I had orders.”

“Whose orders?” she asked.

“My orders.”

She shook him. “Who gave the orders?”

“The one…he said there was…but there wasn’t…so we…” his lips went slack and he started to snore. Sadie shook and slapped him a few more times to try and wake him, but to no avail. He was out cold. Next she shook and slapped him a few times for being an appalling human being and for frustrating her brilliant plan. Argus was the weakest link. If she couldn’t get the truth from him, what chance did she have?

The driver’s side door wrenched open. Sadie pulled out her Taser and fired before she realized that it was Bo and not a member of Argus’s goon squad come to avenge him. For a second, Bo’s arms and legs seized up and drew close to his body, like a frightened turtle sucking into its shell. Next they shot out like pokers. He hovered, his arms and legs in a stiff five-point pattern like a starfish, and then he keeled over, landing so hard on his back that a puff of dust erupted beneath him. Sadie leaned over Argus’s inert form and poked her head through the window. Bo’s glassy eyes stared up at her, but he was breathing.

“Oops,” she said.

“I’m going to kill you,” he said. At least that was what she thought he said. His tongue sounded thick and swollen, as if he’d been dosed with Novocain instead of volts of electricity. His legs began to twitch as the feeling slowly returned.

With a grunt, Sadie shoved Argus aside.

“I know people say that a lot, but I really mean it.” Bo’s speech was growing clearer by the second.

Sadie moved the seat forward.

“I’m literally going to wrap my hands around your throat and choke off the air.” Bo struggled to sit up.

Sadie poked her head out the window again. “The problem with announcing your plan is that it gives people time to get away. I’m surprised they didn’t teach you that at the academy.” The truck roared to life, and she peeled away, covering Bo in a cloud of dust and gravel.

The next morning, Sadie woke late again. After depositing Argus at the bar and retrieving her own car, she arrived home and found Fiona waiting up on her. They had some girl talk, or as close as Fiona came to it. Mostly she listened and worked on her embroidery hoop while Sadie tried to persuade her that perhaps she had misjudged her husband. They didn’t resolve anything, and Sadie lay awake for a long time, trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle. Why had Fergus let Johnny go? Was it pure laziness on his part? Was she reading too much into his actions? What orders had Argus referred to? Whose orders? Had someone ordered him to kill Johnny? Had Fergus ordered him to kill Johnny? Why would he do that when he had worked to get his son out of trouble in the first place?

Neither a restless night nor the dawn of a new day brought any answers. Sadie determined to find some today. She rolled out of bed, gathered her things for the shower and ran into Luke as he opened her door. He took a step inside and closed the door, holding up a hand to keep her from speaking.

“Before you get mad, let me explain,” he began but Sadie interrupted by dropping her toiletries, throwing her arms around him, and holding tight.

“You’re not mad,” he observed. His arms eased around her and returned her crushing embrace.

“Maybe I missed you,” Sadie conceded. “But just a little.” She squeezed impossibly tighter.

“Maybe I missed you, too,” he said softly. The words were harder for him, but he rested his cheek on the top of her head. The unpredictable tension roared up between them like a hydra, unwilling to be ignored. Sadie eased back and framed his face with her hands, smiling.

“How much did you miss me?” she asked.

His grip tightened painfully. “Vaslilssa’s in the bathroom,” he blurted.

Sadie dropped her hands and stepped back. The door opened again, and Bo was there. He jabbed a needle into Luke, and Luke dropped like a stone, instantly unconscious. Sadie decided to act first and ask questions later. She picked up the closest thing she could find, a large bottle of shampoo, and heaved it at Bo’s head. He dodged the blow and grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back. She twisted, wrenched her hand free, and darted away. He was on her in an instant, trying to pin down any part of her he could reach; Sadie impeded his efforts by never staying in one place. She was everywhere, flitting around the room like a butterfly. Bo was equally as determined. There seemed to be three of him as he chased her around and around the small space, grabbing, hitting, clasping whatever he could touch. She was getting tired and out of breath; Bo wasn’t.  

At last he caught her. She didn’t make it easy—biting, kicking, hitting, and bucking at every turn. He subdued her by flattening her body with his. He took great relish in tying her hands, making sure to turn them the right way so she couldn’t slip free. “What did you give Luke?” she asked when she finally caught her breath.

“A sedative,” he said, and she was pleased to hear that he was panting a little, too. “It was supposed to be for you. How many men do you have on your payroll?” He strung her arms over her head and secured them beneath a post of the bed before tying her feet together.

“Why do men keep trying to drug me?” Sadie asked.

“I can’t imagine,” Bo said in a dry tone.

“Why are you doing this?” Sadie asked.

“Because I want one day of peace with you out of my hair,” Bo said. “Everywhere I go, you’re there. I’m working here, and you’re getting in the way.”

“Some might say I’m helping,” Sadie pointed out.

“Not me,” Bo returned. He tugged her restraints, testing them, and took a step back.

“Where’s Fiona?”

“Visiting Tom. They have a lot to talk about; I expect her to be gone for quite some time.”

“This is spiteful,” Sadie said.

“Isn’t it though?” Bo asked, bestowing a satisfied smile that not even his massive beard could disguise.

“Lucas, I am ready to go to house of cheese now,” Vaslilssa announced. She pushed open the door and stopped short, looking from Bo to Sadie in wide-eyed terror.

“Vaslilssa, run!” Sadie commanded, but the order fell on deaf ears. Vaslilssa remained frozen like a deer in headlights as Bo approached.

“Kick him, bite him, punch him,” Sadie called in her best cheerleader voice. Vaslilssa did none of those things. Instead she opened her mouth and screamed in short bursts, the same syllable over and over. “Aaaa, aaaa, aaaaa, aaaa, aaaa, aaaa!” It was bloodcurdling. Sadie pressed her ear to the carpet. Bo covered his with his hands.

“Stop it!” he yelled, and Vaslilssa complied. She stared at him, visibly shaking. “Sit down.”

Vaslilssa dropped and crossed her legs.

“On the chair,” Bo said, pointing to a small chair in the corner of Sadie’s room. Vaslilssa crawled to it and sat down. She remained silent and compliant while Bo tied her up.

“This is a real shame,” Bo said. “I hate to take a beautiful woman out of commission, and
you
are an incredibly beautiful woman.” He winked at Sadie. She rolled her eyes. He tested Vaslilssa’s binds and backed toward the door. “Good day, ladies.”

Vaslilssa’s watery gaze landed on Luke, and she began screaming again, this time with words. “Lucas is dead!”

“He’s not dead!” Sadie had to yell several times to be heard over the incoherent flood of Russian now spewing from Vaslilssa’s mouth. “Shut up!”

Vaslilssa’s roars died down to sniffles.

“He’s sleeping,” Sadie soothed. “He’ll be fine in a little while. Vaslilssa, why didn’t you fight back? Your legs are like telephone poles. You could have snapped his neck with those.”

“In my country, we don’t hit man. If man says sit, we sit,” Vaslilssa said.

“You’re in America now,” Sadie said. “Here if a man tells you to sit, you make him buy you something with more than five carats first.” She used her feet to lift the bed, glad it was a single. Her hands were no longer tethered to the post, but they were still bound too tightly for her to undo. She inspected them, thinking. Bo hadn’t taken her backpack of goodies. She crawled to it now, inching on her belly like a worm. A quick search of her bag revealed her Bowie knife. She secured it between her knees and began sawing the ziptie that held her hands. The knife was sharp, thanks to Gideon and his constant childhood reminders to respect weapons and keep them in good shape. After four strokes, the plastic tie snapped open. Sadie cut her feet apart and turned to Vaslilssa. She was tempted to leave her tied up for a while, but Luke wouldn’t approve. She cut Vaslilssa free, and together they knelt over Luke. Vaslilssa draped herself dramatically on his chest and began weeping again.