Chapter 9
Dane had caught up with Shana at Cap’s house. The gun she had stuffed in the back of her pants alerted him to her edgy mood. She never did that. She always said it was a good way to end up shooting yourself in the butt.
When she turned from pouring herself some coffee and he saw her face, there was no mistaking it. He didn’t need to tell Shana that their mothers shouldn’t stay at the beach shack. He looked around Cap’s kitchen.
“Is that an industrial-use coffeemaker? Haven’t seen one that size since I left the service.”
“I’ve been in here before. I like my kitchen just fine.”
“So do I.” She handed him the coffee and a crack in the ice encapsulating his heart shot a pain through his chest. He needed to harden up, remember he was on the job and not let her get to him. He couldn’t afford any chinks in his fortification. Either that or he had to stop eating burritos.
“Cap’s okay with the company.” Dane hadn’t bothered to ask his friend and Cap hadn’t volunteered his house.
“Of course. You know he would be.”
Dane wanted like hell to get his mother off island, but he knew they were being watched. By the ATF and by whatever stray Mongols Dag had with him.
“Were you followed? Any spies in the neighborhood?”
“No, but I’m sure Wilton and Simpson know where Cap lives and, in spite of your low opinion of them, they’ll figure out where we are and put eyes on us sooner than later.”
“I might have a tight window until then.”
He would get her off island and soon, but it would take some maneuvering.
“You left Cap with them?” She didn’t sound accusing but it was the look in her damn compelling green eyes They always told him so much.
His father would be appalled at her showing the world everything the way she did.
Dane made it his business to show nothing even to her.
But with her, he was too often tempted. Because a man had needs, didn’t he?
They took their coffee into the living room, a spacious and welcoming place with sturdy, comfortable furnishings and a fireplace.
Thank the lord there weren’t flowers or candles or other such nonsensical decorations taking up the empty space.
Dane had seen that kind of thing in most of the summer homes he’d been to on the island. Especially the wealthy estate homes.
They waited for Cap to get back to brief them and get briefed before Dane made his move. Shana kept Claire and Tillie company while they sipped tea and coffee and ate some kind of cookies. The TV was on in the background.
Dead time. He hated it most of all. He passed the time doing the most dangerous thing there was for him in this room—watching Shana.
It got his heart going a few ticks over his resting rate and he was thinking he ought to splash cold water on his face and get a grip when Cap walked in his front door and strode into the living room with Jake in tow.
“You followed?”
“No. No one cares where the Chief of the State Police is going.”
“Then you’re in charge. I’m going back to the shack.”
“Where’s Sam?” Jake asked.
“Out doing surveillance. Tracking down the target. As soon as he finds it, we’re all over it.”
“It’s a small island until you’re looking for someone—especially someone cagey. Lots of tall seagrass to get lost in,” Cap said.
“If anyone can find him, Sam can. For all we know, with their tracking devices, ATF knows exactly where Dag is and they’re not sharing cause they know I’ll go after him myself. Then they won’t get credit for the collar.”
“No doubt you’re right,” Cap said.
“I’ll have Sam come here to keep you company when he’s ready to come in.”
With that, Dane left and went back to his shack. Jake went with him. He left his mother behind. And Tillie. And Shana.
He didn’t know which unsettled him more.
“What’s our next move?” Jake said. He was pacing around the shack’s office in a circle of lanky strides, every now and then raking his fingers through his otherwise well-groomed boy-cut hair.
“You mean besides ducking from the ATF and finding Dag so I can get my hands around his throat?”
Jake stopped short of answering him when Dane’s phone rang. Dane sliced his thumb across the screen and put it to his ear.
The sound of Dag’s voice on the line rolled his gut, but Dane couldn’t claim to be completely surprised.
“You get my gift package?”
Dane gritted his teeth and took a quiet deep breath.
“Yes.” He managed a neutral tone.
Dag cackled. “You’re the cool one. I got to hand it to you. You always were.” He laughed again and then settled down. Dane detached himself from the teenage emotions and waited.
“Then you know I know where you live. Shabbier than I pictured. And here I gave you credit for leading the high life.”
“Glad you like it.”
Dag snorted a laugh. He must be high or hysterical. Neither would be easy to deal with.
“I’ll make you a deal, old friend.”
Dane didn’t bother commenting on the friend reference. He waited for Dag to continue.
Dag breathed hard into the phone, then shouted.
“You do that all the time. I hate when you do that—you ignore me. You should not ignore me, Blaise. You know better than that, don’t you? You know I’m serious.”
“What do you want?”
“I know the ATF is sniffing around. They’ve been after me half my life, so I know. Probably working with you. Probably got something on you. Let’s face it, old pal, I know you’re no choir boy.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is, hell, this all is between you and me.”
Dane’s heart pumped, steady but hard. He tightened his control, told himself not to get excited.
The man was a crazy-ass psychopathic liar.
But it was so hard, with Jake standing next to him and Dag’s voice in his ear, not to be dragged back to being that teenager with outrage running through his veins.
“What do you want to do about it?” Dane’s voice was even, but there was a telling vibration under it and he knew Dag would hear it. He knew Dag would pick up on the excitement.
“Let’s have a good old-fashioned duel. You and me. Settle our score. I know you’re man enough to face off against me—even though you know you could lose.”
“You could lose, Dag.”
“I’m man enough to face that.” His voice quieted, and he spoke as if he were a lucid rational man.
But there was no way in hell anything that was coming out of Dag’s mouth right now was real. Dane would play along and see where Dag wanted to take this. Dane would turn whatever Dag had in his sick mind to his own advantage.
“I want to meet you at your house. I’m coming to you on your turf. You keep the feds away and we square off. And may the best, most evil man win.” He laughed.
Dag had always thought of himself as hilarious. Dane knew he was up to something, but he’d be fine with leaving the ATF operators out of this.
“You want me to shake the feds and let you drive up to my house without shooting you on sight? That what you’re saying? What makes you think you can trust me?”
“Don’t you know? Good old Dane, you’re the most trustworthy man I know. Hell, I know I can trust you. I’m giving you the chance to take me down. I’m giving us the thing we’ve wanted, what we’ve been dancing around for years.”
Dane said nothing, didn’t bother prompting him. Dag wanted drama, but his act was wasted on Dane. He’d tamped down his emotions and was holding tight onto his control with the razor sharpness of his mind.
“We fight to the death. Only one of us walks away from this.” Dag’s breathing sounded heavy, like his mouth was touching the phone.
“Just you and me—”
“Naw. What’s the fun in that? Like they did in the old dueling days, we each bring a second. Someone to put it down for posterity. Take pictures.” He cackled. “Someone to call the morgue when I kill you dead.”
He’d reverted to his singsong voice again and Dane wondered if Dag might be serious in spite of how he sounded. Wondered if he were completely unhinged. Probably untreated syphilis and drugs had eaten his brain away. Or maybe Dagmar Hunt had been born crazy.
“You bring the surfer boy. I’ll bring whoever I decide would make a good sacrificial lamb.”
“You have a deal.”
Dane wasn’t sure what Dag was up to, but if he wanted to show up at Dane’s house, then he and Jake would be ready.
Dag cackled over the phone again. Jake shook his head and looked like the man about to press the red button to launch a nuclear bomb.
“Remember, no law. No ATF. No state police.” His voice was back to normal and deadly.
Dane knew something was up, that there’d be a set-up of some kind. It seemed Dag already knew he and Jake were at the shack. Waiting.
“Fine with me.”
“I knew you and me was more alike than different. Can’t wait to meet your girl.” Dag went into a hysteria of laughter then and Dane took the phone from his ear, slid his thumb to the red dot disconnecting the call and stashed the phone in his pants pocket. Before his rage could take over again.
The mention of his girl instantly put him back to the last time Dag had mentioned his girl. And back to what had happened to his girl.
He took some deep breaths and kept still, getting his head back to the present, keeping a lid on his need to explode.
“You okay?”
He nodded.
“Then you’re the only one. I’m waiting for a bomb to drop. Literally. On this house.”
He gave Jake a slap on the back. He felt normal again. Normal for a man in the middle of a deadly operation. Normal for him.
“Too impersonal for Dag. He wants to play like a cat with a mouse. He wants to see me squirm and make me suffer. His sickness is his weakness. We can work with it.”
“You calling the ATF?” Jake’s face was unreadable for once.
“I’m not even letting Cap in on this.” He waited a beat, unsure if Jake would go along and needing him to be okay with it.
Jake nodded and pressed his mouth into the grimmest line Dane had ever seen on his sunny friend.
His mind flashed back again, but without the overwhelming emotion, to the first time they’d gone after Dag together and Jake’s excitement and his fear and astonishment.
His friend had been all that, but he’d never been grim.
“I’m in.”
“All the way?”
Jake nodded again. “I feel like that teenager driving you and going along with your righteous vigilante justice mission when we went after Dag in that pool hall. It’s kismet.”
“Most people would call it deja vu. That some hippie poet way of saying you can’t resist?”
Jake’s grin was more determined than jovial. Exactly as it should be. He nodded.
“Then let’s do this. I have a few weapons stashed in the basement that we might need.”
“You’re not going to electrify the house?”
“I’m pretty sure I’d be called for murdering the son of a bitch. It’s best to be on the defense in this situation. Or at least appear to be.”
Jake smiled then. Dane saw the glitter in his friend’s eyes, a hint of the old excitement sneaking back in.
“I almost forgot that you’re experienced at this kind of thing.”
“I’m a goddamn expert.”