Chapter 3
3
Silk
“W hat’s going on,” Dax asks as soon as we’re out back.
“A couple nights ago I was walking home from the pier. It was late and I saw her dart out of an alley with a guy hot on her heels. He grabbed her and dragged her back between the buildings. She was trying to fight him off. I got behind him and put him in a choke hold. She must have thought we were a tag team because she lashed out at me—nearly caught the family jewels—then took off.
“She lost her water bottle and phone.”
“And...”
“Before I got to him, I heard the guy say, ‘he wants you back’. When he regained consciousness, he said we were both dead for messing up his retrieval assignment.
“I got the phone to I-Tee. He was able to get her name and save most of her stuff. He checked for a driver’s license and her listed address is on MyLand Island. The most interesting part, he found a very high-tech tracker installed on her phone.
“I’ve been trying to find her for two days.”
Dax shakes his head. “Boots found her sleeping on the Landon’s Dairy Cheeses’ stoop about two weeks ago.” He nods to the back entrance where Boots and Daisies shares the entrance with the other side of the building. “She took her a coffee and a Danish from the bakery down the street. After they talked a bit, Boots offered her a job.
“She’s staying at that piece of shit boarding house where Boots was. I changed the locks on her door and put deadbolts in the bathroom. Made sure she could move the dresser in front of the door when she slept.”
“Diesel is bringing his family back with him, so he’s looking for a rental,” I say thinking out loud. “My spare room is empty.”
“I don’t think she trusts you.”
I shrug. “What time does she get off?”
“She’s leaving at four to catch a ferry to somewhere. Probably that island she’s from. What are you thinking?”
“The same thing you are. Something’s wrong. She’s running or hiding. Or both.”
“We got any transportation on that island?” he asks.
“Nothing of ours. They do have those electric bike rentals. I could follow the ferry in the speedboat. When I’m sure that’s her destination I could go ahead and be ready with a bike. It’s not that big an island. I’ll stay in the shadows unless she needs me.”
“I’ll text you when she leaves and I’ll follow her till she boards. Take your comm unit and keep in touch.”
“Roger that.”
Dax was right, she boarded the ferry stopping at her home island. I’m following at a reasonable distance when another speedboat jets by me, the HIN numbers conveniently obscured. I quicken my own speed, veering off when I’ve got a good idea where the other boat is headed. I don’t like coincidences and two of us following the same ferry sets off my warning bells.
Docking, I pick up the rental bike and position myself to watch people disembark. I see her. Good girl, she’s hidden her hair under a ball cap and has changed her shirt from what she wore onto the ferry. She knows she’s being watched. Does she know by who?
Problem is if they’re professional, they picked her out just like I did. She heads for the bike rental with several other passengers and rents one of her own. Joining at the rear of the stream of bikers hitting the road, I keep her in sight. One by one the riders breakoff going down separate roads or paths to their personal destinations.
Melia glanced back a couple times in the beginning, but I kept my head down. After a couple miles in she lost herself in what’s obviously an enjoyable exercise for her. I keep my head down letting my own ball cap shield my face.
The whole island is only ten miles long. The address on her driver’s license pins her home somewhere in the middle.
I glance back as a car approaches from behind. Blacked out windows, expensive model, obscured license plate. Damn, could they be more obvious? Speeding up I pull abreast of her. “Do you know someone with a black Beemer who’d be following you?”
She glances over her shoulder and pales. “What are you doing here?”
“Watching your back. Someone else is following you. Can we cut through that stand of trees?”
“Yes. Its a little rough, but doable.”
“Lead the way, I’ll follow.”
“Why are you here?”
“Boots is worried about you.” So am I.
She glances back once more before speeding up and cutting through the narrow field to the band of trees. Once hidden amongst the pines, I glance back. The driver is speeding down the road.
“Does the road loop around to the other side?” I call after her.
She stops. “Yes.”
“Is there another way to get where we’re going?”
“We could stay in the tree line, until we get closer, then cut across the road. There will be another copse of trees we could go through. It will be rough. But I did it as a kid.”
“Lead on.”
“Why are you here? And I want a real answer.”
“Do you know what Dax does?”
“Some kind of security consulting.”
“Close enough. He and I work for the same company. Sometimes we do investigations, sometimes we’re bodyguards. Boot’s is worried about you. Dax, is worried about Boots worrying about you. I’m currently unassigned, so Dax wants me to watch over you, so Boots won’t worry.
“It’s a worrying situation.” I grin, trying to lighten the seriousness of the moment.
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “You’re incorrigible.”
I nod in agreement, which gets me another headshake, but this time she smiles. “Lead on.”
It is slow going in the trees but not more than a mile. She stops and points across the road. “We need to get to the other side of that band of trees.”
“What’s over there?”
“My house. There are a few things I need to get. M-my mom is in the local clinic. They think she had a stroke. They wanted to know if I had any of her old medical records or if she has insurance. She can’t remember, so I need to check for her. I also want to see her, see if there is any improvement.”
“Has she seen any doctors in Love Beach? Any specialist?”
“No. She… she refuses to leave the island.”
“Why? This island is too small. There’s no way it has the kind of care she needs.”
“I told her. I tried. But she’s afraid to leave.”
I rub a hand over my face. “Alright, we?—”
The Beemer pulls to a stop on the dirt road across the way before heading back toward the ferry landing. They knew where she was headed.
“Was that…”
“Yeah. The car that was following you. They knew where you were headed. I don’t like this.”
“Please. They left. Can’t we go? I’ll be quick.”
This is a bad idea, but I can’t tell her no. We’re halfway down the path to her home when an explosion rocks the air and a plume of fire shoots into the air. By the time we get there the cabin is engulfed in flames.”
“How far away is your mom?”
“Not too far. There’s a little short cut I know.”
“Take me there, now.”
Part of me relaxes when we head the opposite direction than the Beemer. The other part worries that they went there first. At the clinic, which is nothing more than a ranch house with four bedrooms, we go to the desk.
The grey-haired woman glances up a worried look on her face. “Melia, didn’t you get the message?”
“What message?”
“Your mom had a really bad episode, and they transferred her to the university hospital in Charleston.”
“When? When did this happen?”
“Earlier today. Your phone went straight to voicemail. The doctor left a message.”
“How long ago?” I ask.
“Around one I think.”
“Can you print me the notes from today with all the information as to who transported her.”
“I’ll give you what I can. It may not all have been entered yet. It might have been the coast guard because they are closest.”
“Thank you.”
When the receptionist walks away, I pull Melia aside. “You need to trust me. I can help with this. I’ll have my office start checking. They’ll find her. I’ll get you to her. My immediate concern is why those guys in the Beemer are following you. And how they knew where you lived.”