Chapter 10
It was almost dawn, but Dane didn’t care as he followed behind Shana’s sexy ass into the back alley.
They returned to the basement of the Lucky Parrot through the bulkhead door that was conveniently unlocked.
While they were gone, someone, presumably the owner, Tom, had stocked the freezer with tequila and ice.
The fact that Dane bothered to check the freezer in the century-old refrigerator covered in dust and cobwebs told him that his intuition was in fine hazardous mission condition.
He pulled out the bottle and turned to the small, grim-looking group.
“Breakfast. Courtesy of LP management. Looks like Shana gets her wish.”
“How did he know we were here?” Ronnie took his jacket off and paced a restless circle.
“Not sure, but don’t worry,” Dane said. “He’ll leave us alone.” He watched Shana glower at him, arms folded, leather jacket still on. Her emerald eyes glittered within the frame of the bright red hair.
“As much as I’d love to stay and have breakfast with all of you,” Vendi said, “I need to get back to the Coast Guard station.” Then he turned to Shana and added, “But I’ll be on call if you need anything.
” When the man leaned in and gave her a kiss, it was all Dane could do to keep from leaping across the small space and ripping him off her.
As it was, Joe put a hand on his shoulder.
Vendi had enough sense to kiss her cheek and not her mouth, and the good judgment to leave quickly after that, up the stairs through the bulkhead where they’d come in.
“Nervy guy,” Joe said as he looked between Dane and Shana. “What’s the plan—we wait for the funeral tomorrow?”
“I don’t know if I can stand waiting around here for this Whitey character to show up at your funeral tomorrow to catch him. Not while he’s holding Sassy.” Ronnie sank into the one comfortable chair in the shabby dungeon-like room.
Shana sat on the cot that had been left there since the time Acer had had to spend time holed up in this basement.
Dane half expected her to lie down and sleep.
She suddenly looked exhausted, like someone had let the air out of her.
Maybe it was him, maybe he’d sucked the life out of her by not trusting her to take care of herself.
In the light of day, like seeing the replay of a drunken night of debauchery the next morning, it appeared he might have been heavy-handed with his protectiveness.
But damn it, this was her life. If Whitey slit her throat, there were no do-overs. And if that happened he might as well slit Whitey’s throat, then his own. Dane snapped himself from the negative thoughts. Shana was alive and well, but the same might not be said about Sassy.
“Let’s plan to find Sassy tonight. I’m betting all the marbles Whitey has her in the basement of her house.”
Ronnie nodded in agreement.
Joe said, “Another excursion under the cover of darkness?”
“How can you be so sure?” Shana asked.
Of course Shana questioned him. Maybe he’d counted on it. He drank in her scowling face, with the hint of anger simmering beneath, giving that beloved spark to her green eyes.
“He has her phone. He trashed her pie shop. He needs a place to stay. And most of all. He wants to set a trap. For you. When Cap checked the house, they were still at the pie shop. He had to know we’d be checking both.”
“You think he’s watching us?” Ronnie asked.
Dane shook his head. “There was no surveillance at the pie shop and they didn’t follow us, so I don’t see how they could be watching us. We’ll need to be extra careful about checking the grounds at Sassy’s house for cameras or motion sensors.”
“I have equipment for that,” Joe said.
“We’ll plan it for three a.m. tonight. That’ll give them a chance to get sleepy. If we get lucky, maybe everyone will be there and we can extract Sassy and eliminate Whitey Nash and his pal Eli Hughes.”
“That’s what I want to hear,” Ronnie said.
“Unless they have explosives or another booby trap.” Deep down Dane figured this was a given, but he didn’t want Ronnie upset to the point where he’d be unreliable.
The room went silent for a beat and he exchanged glances with Shana.
“Mind if I grab some shut-eye?” Joe said.
“Sure. But it won’t be for long. I’ll be waking you for the press conference at 10 a.m. with Cap and the governor.”
“A show I won’t want to miss. Where is it being held? Maybe we should be there in person.”
Shana said, “Good idea. In case Whitey shows up. I’ll dress up—” She rose as if to run out the door until Dane caught her by the elbow.
“You’re not going anywhere. None of us are going.
Not until we’ve got eyes on Sassy. Not until the funeral.
Too risky. Too many news snoops and law enforcement personnel who know us well.
Cap has Whitey’s and Eli’s photos. He’s distributing them to his officers.
They’ll be looking for him with orders to arrest on suspicion of kidnapping.
We’re staying right here during daylight hours.
Pretend you’re a vampire. If someone sees you in the light of day and knows it’s you, the whole plan is blown.
” He didn’t go into detail about what blown meant, but she knew it meant Sassy was blown, that Nash and Eli might escape or blow something else up.
“The only plan we have is to get Sassy and eliminate Whitey,” she said. “By whatever means.”
He didn’t raise a brow at her extreme take, but it was unusual for her. “We’re on the same page then.”
“Don’t we need to arrest him and take him in?” Ronnie said.
Dane exchanged a glance with Shana. He wasn’t sure how to answer the kid, but he wasn’t going to start lying or sugarcoating things now.
“In theory. But that’s not how this operation is going down, kid. I don’t want you to get in trouble at such a young age with your whole career ahead of you, so if you—”
“Don’t worry about me. I get it. I just wanted to be clear.
He kidnapped Sassy. He blew up the beach shack.
He booby-trapped the pie shop. He gets no benefit of the doubt from me,” Ronnie said.
Then the kid stood and went to the refrigerator and pulled the door open.
“Hey we’ve got food in here. Some fruit and cheese and yogurt and bread and meat.
” Ronnie turned to Dane and Shana with a grin.
“We don’t have to have tequila for breakfast after all. ”
It was the first time Dane had seen Shana truly smile since the explosion. Since they lost their fucking home.
“Knock yourself out, kid.” Dane didn’t stop filling three glasses with tequila. In spite of Joe’s quiet, he knew the man would appreciate a double shot. He knew Shana needed one.
Sitting down next to her on the cot, he checked his watch.
Close enough to appreciate the scent of her—roses and danger—and feel her body heat, he purposely nudged his leg up against hers.
He handed her a glass and had the sudden urge to be naked and alone with her.
Inappropriate because they were in the middle of a life-threatening situation.
But since when had that ever stopped them? They weren’t in danger here and now. This acknowledgment made him look at Joe and Ronnie with the strong inclination to throw them both out on the street for a few hours.
As he took a strong gulp of his tequila, he would have continued running with the notion of getting rid of the other two then seducing Shana, but suddenly she stood.
Maybe she felt his horny vibes, maybe she couldn’t stand being near him anymore.
Either way, her desertion put an end to his seduction fantasy.
“The press conference should be on any time now.” Shana turned on the small television and clicked it to the local news channel.
He willed her to come back and sit beside him, but she didn’t.
She looked at him with one of those I-know-what-you’re-thinking-and-there’s-no-way-in- hell looks.
He took the opportunity to stretch out on the cot, resting the half empty glass of tequila on his chest.
When the newscaster announced the press conference with the governor on the recent explosion at 9 Harbor Lane in Vineyard Haven, Joe and Ronnie took their sandwiches and stood with Shana to watch the show.
Dane lasered in, hoping they’d get a few crowd shots.
The press conference was set up at the site of the explosion, which was cordoned off with yellow police tape, no longer recognizable as where the beach shack once stood.
A black patch of earth, a cement foundation, and random splinters of the house’s frame were all that remained.
Shit. There was no way Cap would get away with claiming they’d found the remains of two bodies in that rubble.
The camera panned across an impressive crowd of media and lookers-on to a makeshift podium with a dozen microphones where Cap and Peter stood, dressed up like they were about to march in a parade. The medical examiner stood behind them in a white lab coat looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
“Did you catch anything in that crowd shot?” Dane asked Shana.
“No. This damn television isn’t hooked up with a remote with pause and rewind functions.” She turned the volume up, he presumed because that was all she could do.
The newscaster announced that they were waiting for the mayor of Vineyard Haven to arrive before beginning the press conference. That’s when they switched to footage of Cap and two of his officers pulling body bags out of the wreckage.
The newscaster’s voice-over said, “Late last night it appeared that two bodies were recovered from the wreckage of the house owned by Dane Blaise, principal of Beachcomber Investigations and well known for the uncovering of a white slavery operation being run by the Martha’s Vineyard Surfing Competition three years ago.
It’s speculated that the second body is that of Mr. Blaise’s partner and fiancée, Shana George. ”