Chapter 7
“Don’t force me to hire a taxi.” His mother looked serene, but he wasn’t fooled as she sat sipping her coffee. They were on the patio out back, but that’s as far as Dane wanted her to go until he arranged for her to go back home.
“I’m with her,” Tillie said.
Dane wanted to drag his mother inside and have a serious chat with her, but he saw the stubborn set of her face, saw the need for some excitement and adventure.
“I’m not worried about a thing. I know you’ll take care of everything that needs taking care of.
” His mother was cagey. She didn’t let on to Tillie that there might be real danger.
Dane flashed a glance at Shana. Her face was tight with a false smile and her back was straighter than a Catholic schoolgirl.
She checked her watch as if it were a wizard with all the answers and looked up to meet his eyes.
“I’m sure we can manage.” Her tone was determined but her eyes didn’t look so sure.
“I know we can.”
“Well of course we can,” Tillie looked at them as if they were all children worried about nothing.
As it should be.
After finishing their coffee, they went inside, ostensibly to get their shit together to go out on their excursion to the old carousel in Oak Bluffs. Dane pulled Shana into the bedroom with him, but not for his usual purpose.
“Are you okay with this?” He knew she would say yes, but he wanted to hear her, wanted her to hear herself, gain some assurance.
“I can handle the protection duty, but is this really a good idea.” Shana wasn’t asking. Not really. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
“No. But we can’t keep them trapped in the house.
My mother is stubborn. Besides, I think Wilton and Simpson are insurance that Dag won’t do a damn thing.
He knows the ATF is here and he’s too smart to walk into a trap.
If we want to catch him, we’ll need to get rid of the ATF.
And we’ll need to get our mothers out of the way first.”
“I think Wilton and Simpson are counting on us to do their dirty work for them and grabbing the credit. I hate to give it to them.”
“We’ll play their game one more day. Take the pressure off Cap. They’re all over him with not-so-veiled threats to put a damper on his career.”
She snorted.
“They can’t hurt Cap’s career. He works for our friend, the governor.”
He paused a beat and made sure she was paying attention before he spoke.
“Peter isn’t going to be governor forever.”
“What are you talking about? He’s a ringer for a second term.”
“There won’t be a second term. He’s going to move on to bigger and better things. Sooner than later.”
She went silent.
“We’re doing this today and then I’m getting my mother off the island.”
“That’ll be a trick, with everyone watching.”
“I have Wonder Woman for an assistant.”
“I’ve been downgraded from sidekick to assistant?”
“You’ve been upgraded from second-chair to assistant.”
“You think I’d rather be a secretary than a lawyer?”
“Anything’s better than being a lawyer.” He stood. “Time to go.”
They left the bedroom and found their mothers in the kitchen drinking coffee and tidying up.
“Can I get a cup of joe to go?” He approached his mother.
“It’s about time. I’m sure Tillie and I didn’t travel here to Martha’s Vineyard to spend so much time in your house—charming as it is.”
“She’s right as rain. Let’s get on it.”
Dane took a travel mug from his mother and they all headed outside.
“What is it you do for a living exactly, Dane?” Tillie asked as he held the car door.
“Lately I’m a chauffeur.” He flashed a look at Shana. What the hell had she told her mother?
“Shana mentioned that you are very well heeled and this is a very nice car indeed.”
“Mum, you know Dane and I are private investigators.”
She ducked inside the car and waved a hand, brushing off the notion. He needed to give her a story that wouldn’t worry her or Claire, but one that would explain him having a pile of money.
He got in the driver’s seat.
“I’ve done some contract work—as a consultant in security for the government. It paid very well. Thank you for noticing the nice car.”
“Government work?” his mother said. “That’s what they’re calling—“
“The government has a need for all kinds of expertise.” He cut his mother off. She knew. But he didn’t need it to be spelled out for Tillie that he’d been a well-paid mercenary for years.
Tillie nodded her head sagely. “I had a feeling about that. You do seem like the dangerous type after all.”
His mother laughed. Maybe Tillie wasn’t as na?ve as she seemed.”
Even Shana couldn’t suppress a smile. He started the engine and tried for a change in subject.
“Who wants to bet that Tillie grabs the most brass rings at the carousel?”
Dane drove their mothers in the Jag and Shana rode shotgun. He had the roof up and the AC cranked. They left one of Cap’s men at the house. Wilton and Simpson were waiting for them at the Carousel in Oak Bluffs with a crowd of undercover ATF agents freshly arrived on-island.
“This drive is going to take a little longer than usual. Enjoy the scenery.” He took a circuitous route including a pass by the state police headquarters, where he honked the horn.
Shana reached over and put a hand on his thigh. Normally this move would have excited the hell out of him because it would be signaling a mood, a desire and the beginning of hair raising—and other body parts raising—to come. But in this moment Dane felt her intention and it was different.
Her hand caressed him in comfort. It felt warm, not sizzling.
“Damn, girlie, if you aren’t getting smart enough to read the mysterious book of Dane.” He was more impressed than surprised.
She smiled.
“I can’t take credit. I’m projecting my own thoughts.” She sneaked a peak at the chatting women in the back seat.
They weren’t listening. Dane had made sure of that or he’d have kept his mouth shut.
He said, “Something ain’t right.”
“Almost my thoughts exactly,” she said. “Let’s approach the house cautiously.”
“No kidding.”
She laughed. “Now you know how I feel.”
“Not even close, girlie.” He winked at her and put a hand on her thigh. Now he knew how she felt. Too good to be true.
But that was another pickle altogether and he needed to concentrate on his built-in danger antenna that was blaring inside his head right now.
He looked in his rearview.
“I’m going to drop you ladies for a few at Mrs. Jones’s where Tillie is staying. Mrs. Jones is serving tea about now.”
His mother nodded.
Tillie said, “Oh how lovely. Tea in the afternoon. Just like home.”
He turned to Shana. “Alert Mrs. Jones about the tea, will you?”
“On it.” She smirked at him as she tapped a message into her phone.
Once they dropped off the two women, he felt better. More alert than tense.
“I can’t believe I was so na?ve about Dag. That I had to read his file to have my eyes opened.”
“It was an eye-opening file. But you’re a trained professional. Something corrupted your assessment of the situation.”
“You mean someone.”
“I told you nothing but bad things.”
“True, but I thought you…”
“Spill it, girlie.”
“That you were paranoid. That you’d blown him all out of proportion because he was your boyhood nemesis. That he made a disproportionate impression on you.”
“There’s that. And there’s the fact that he grew into a leader in the field of bad-asses.”
“What are the chances that as a teenager you’d run into someone who’d become so notorious?”
“What are the chances that Dag would run into someone who’d become so notorious?”
She smiled, but only partially. He didn’t know why she was so troubled. She’d misjudged, but then so had he when it came to Dag. And it had cost him.
“I think I was looking for trouble. Even then.”
“You were like Batman even as a teenager, you mean?”
“Batman? You mean Superman, don’t you?”
“More like Clark Kent.”
Now he smiled. Glad she was over it.
They were two blocks away. He slowed the car.
“What are you thinking?” Shana said.
“What’s the matter? Your mind reading abilities suddenly failing you?”
“Easy come, easy go.”
“I’m thinking we’ll approach cautiously.” He pulled the car over three houses away at the end of the block.
“Zeke is on watch out front. I’ll call him and see what he says.” Shana tapped a number into her phone while they sat in the car.
After a few beats she shoved the phone back into the back pocket of her impossibly tight jeans.
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t answer.”
“You have the right number?” Dane peered out the windshield down the street and could see the police car and the top of the man’s head. Then his gut fell to his toes and he shoved open his door, went low with his Glock pulled and ran towards the state police car.
He felt Shana behind him but didn’t turn around. Didn’t shout for her to get back to the Jag and stay there, lock herself in the trunk until the shooting was all over. Didn’t dare say that, but it caused a spike in his heart rate and a rush of adrenaline.
Surveying the front of the house from behind the rear of the police car, he saw no one and nothing out of place, but behind the screen door he could see the back door to his beach shack was open. He crouch-walked to the car first, then stood, gun drawn.
Inside the vehicle, Zeke’s head lolled over, but there was no blood spatter. Dane’s eyes zeroed in on the dart in the man’s shoulder and quickly put his hand on the inert man’s neck to find his pulse. It was slow but it was there.
He turned to Shana, who stood two feet away with her gun aimed, half crouched for cover behind the car, in case anyone was aiming at them from inside the shack. Dane gave her a nod and said, “He’s okay. Tranquilized.”
Dane ran low toward the back door and motioned for her to stand on the other side. Careful to avoid touching the house in case it was electrified, he picked up a stick and tapped the siding. Nothing.
“Thank God,” Shana whispered.