Chapter 5
With no phone call from Shana to wake him, Dane slept longer than he’d planned.
When he woke, he sat up in her old twin bed with the late afternoon sun streaming in through the pink curtains.
Her childhood room wasn’t what he’d expected.
She’d gone through a lot of trouble to convince him she wasn’t a girlie girl, but this room said otherwise.
Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he swore to himself at the late hour and punched in her number. Once again, he let the phone ring three, four, then five times with no answer. He left an innocuous message to let her know things were okay on his end.
Rising and stretching, he reminded himself she was a smart and resourceful woman. Her mentor Kevin Ivory wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Likely they were holding her for questioning until they were satisfied that she had nothing to do with the fraud scheme.
Unless the police force insider who was responsible was somehow finding a way to set her up. This was a distinct possibility and though Dane reasoned that she wasn’t likely in mortal danger, he knew there were no guarantees. It was time to make a bold move and find out what the hell was going on.
After splashing water on his face and avoiding looking in the mirror at the day-and-a-half beard growth, he went to the kitchen where he knew he’d find Tillie.
“Did you have a good sleep? Did you hear from Shana?”
“Yes and no. I need your son’s phone number. I’m going to enlist Billy’s help and we’re going to find Shana and retrieve her from wherever the hell she is.” He paused and added, “Pardon my language.”
She didn’t flinch or comment, she only rattled off a phone number. Dane tapped it into his phone. Shana’s brother picked up on the second ring.
After a brief explanation of the situation, Billy said he’d be right over.
“No, let’s meet somewhere else.”
“All right then. Where do you have in mind?”
“Where do Sydney’s men in blue hang out?”
After a beat of silence on the other end during which he knew Billy was contemplating Dane’s sanity, he came up with an answer.
“A place called Muddy Mary’s. It’s down the street from 3WM where the trendier set hangs out. You sure it’s a good idea to go to a cop bar?”
“Where else are we going to pick up on scuttlebutt? Shana should be the main topic of discussion after showing up unexpectedly today. If she’s not, then something is wrong.”
“Oh, something is wrong all right. She would have called you if she could. I never saw my sister so daffy about a man.”
“Not even with her ex-fiancé?” Dane ought to be ashamed of his need for confirmation, but this was the hellion brother who’d brought said ex all the way from Sydney to Martha’s Vineyard to visit with Shana as soon as he found out she and Dane were engaged.
Dane swore he could hear Billy smirk. He could sure as hell picture it.
“Not even then. I’ll meet you in an hour. If I can’t come to the house to pick you up, how are you going to get there?”
“You leave that to me.”
He turned to Tillie, who’d been standing by listening attentively as if it was her right to eavesdrop. He supposed it was. He hated to leave her alone. Joe wouldn’t be arriving until the next day and he had no idea who else to call to sit on the house to watch the watchers.
“Don’t worry about me. I have a gun and I know how to use it if one of those men decides to make a personal call. You go ahead.”
“I should leave in my getup, but your neighbors will gossip that you had a gentleman visiting overnight.”
She laughed. “I should be so lucky. They’d only be envious. You can be sure I’ll hear about your visit and I plan to make up an interesting tale to tell.”
He raised a brow and a thread of tension, one of only many, broke in the knot running through his shoulders, across his shoulder blades. Allowing a smile, he considered his options.
None.
He had to go after Shana.
It was clear to him now that Shana was their target and her mother the lure. He checked out the window once more. One of the two cars was gone, confirming his suspicion that one had gone to look for Shana and one was staying behind in case she showed up here.
“Then we have a plan.” He left the room to dress in his disguise and to call a taxi. Old Man Blaise—or whoever he was—would be more inclined to take a taxi. He’d have it drop him off at a hotel, where he’d rent a room, and then he’d sneak out to meet Billy dressed as himself.
*****
Dane walked into the bar and saw Billy immediately, front and center, laughing with two older men in blue and holding a mug.
As if nothing was amiss. He was a kinder, gentler version of Shana, tall and blond and well built, but he was always affable, ready to laugh or more likely to make everyone around him laugh or smile.
He had none of the edge Shana had, even if he shared her startling good looks.
To give him credit, as soon as Dane caught his eye, he disengaged from his conversation and headed to the far corner of the bar up against the wall, where Dane met him. They were as far out of the main action as they could get.
Billy slapped his arm. “Good to see you, man. Tough business with Ma and Shana. What can we do?”
“We can find some detectives who’ll talk to us who might know what’s going on with Chancy Peterson.”
Billy nodded. “You staying with Ma?”
“No. Can’t. But we need someone to watch her place.”
“I can cover that. I talked to the neighbors since she won’t let me within a hundred yards of the place. Afraid for my safety. Mr. Green lives two doors down and he’s been watching out for her and reporting to me. I don’t think she knows.”
“Good.”
“You can stay with me.”
“Can’t take the chance.”
“No one’s watching me.”
“Not yet. But they could be expecting Shana to show up there.”
“Maybe she is there. She’s got to be somewhere, damn it.”
It was true. To clear his head of the interference, of the thoughts about where she might be, before raising his state of alarm to the red zone, he needed to try to make contact again.
“I’ll attempt to call her before I go asking questions that might cause concern,” Dane said.
He didn’t say that he was more worried about causing suspicions.
He took his phone from his pocket and tapped the number one.
The line played its unembellished ringtone.
Their phones hadn’t been set up for voicemail, not that he would leave a message anyway.
He let it ring again. No answer. , Billy stared back at him with an uncharacteristic serious look, almost identical to one Shana might wear. The bar noises faded into the background while Dane listened to the fourth ring, keeping his mind clear. Then the fifth ring. No answer.
Staring at Billy, he didn’t say anything. There was no need for words. They both knew.
Shana was gone.
Moving down the bar to where the bartender stood, Dane put a hundred-dollar bill US down and gave the guy a look. The man raised a brow and gave him a suspicious look back. He was old and grizzled and looked like he’d been in a few fights and lost.
“I need to talk to a senior detective. Someone who’s been around a while and knows what goes on with the upper brass.”
“Why should I tell the likes of you?”
“Aside from the money? Because I’m harmless.”
“That goes without saying. You’re a soft American.”
It had been a long time since anyone had accused him of being soft. At least to his face. Longer still since he’d let anyone get away with it, but this wasn’t the time or place. He gave the bartender a neutral smile and nodded.
“Exactly. I only want information.”
“What for?”
Shrugged. The man stared him down, taking his measure.
Dane was careful not to give him any inkling that he was anything other than the soft American he’d been accused of being.
No shark stare, no tense jaw, no blank stare.
Dane wore the friendliest face he had in his repertoire of looks and held it for as long as the man needed.
It turned out to be a long thirty seconds while Dane controlled his breathing and hoped he didn’t need to resort to a plan B.
Plan Bs were notorious for being the more violent options.
“Why not? Senior detective Larry Lisk is your man—if he’ll talk to you. He knows everything. I’ll let him decide if he wants to, but the hundred is mine to keep. No guarantees.”
Dane nodded. The bartender pointed with his thumb. “The man with the loud suit and the bad comb-over. And don’t tell him I sent you.”
Dane saluted him and as he made his way to the man, he contemplated his approach.
Not only was Senior Detective Larry Lisk wearing a loud suit, but he spoke loudly too.
He was telling a war story to a couple of younger men and slugging back a pint.
Dane would have interrupted if he didn’t get an opening, but it only took a few seconds until one of the men went to the bar.
Dane stepped in front of the other man, cutting him off, and slapped Larry’s back as if they were old pals.
“Larry Lisk. How the hell are you? I feel like I know you. My girl Shana speaks about you all the time. Thinks very highly of you.”
Larry looked confused, like he was trying to place Dane, then the wariness crept in and took hold and Dane could see the tough, wily detective in him coming out.
Not a good sign. Dane kept his voice low and spoke close enough to the man’s ear in the crowded, noisy bar so that he wouldn’t be overheard.
“I’m Dane Blaise. Shana George’s fiancé.” No sense pussyfooting around it.
“What the hell is that girl doing in town and what the hell are you doing here without her?” Larry kept his voice low and his eyes slid around to check the full three-sixty without making it obvious, to anyone else except Dane.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. I haven’t heard from her in fourteen hours. Last I saw her she took a ride with Kevin Ivory, presumably to police headquarters. You know Ivory?”
Detective Loud Suit stared at him with an admirably blank look for a solid three seconds.
Dane figured it was a test of his resolve.
He didn’t blink or say a thing. The ball was in the detective’s conversational court and he wasn’t about to deprive him.
Dane imitated a stone wall, still and hard and impervious.
“I know the boy. He’s an up and comer. Works in the office with the chief. It may not be a coincidence that you ran into him on the street if they knew Shana was returning to town.”
Dane had picked the right man. Before congratulating his instincts, he took a breath and acknowledged the blind luck of it. His only role, really, was deciding to come to the bar with Billy.
“He was following us. It’s all about the pension fund scandal.”
The man nodded and pulled Dane into a more private corner.
“I could get my ass chewed depending on who overhears me. Most of the force doesn’t believe the notion of an insider, but those of us with a brain and a clear conscience and two eyeballs know it to be truth. Know to watch our steps too. Shana is the missing link in the case.”
“Now she’s just plain missing.”
“They must have her.”
“Who’s they?” This was the all-important, million-dollar question. Dane held his breath waiting for the answer. The detective took a beat, meeting his eyes without blinking, with honesty and no fear.
“I don’t know. No one knows who’s behind it, who the bad cell is. Could be more than one. All we know is they would have to be high up and they would have to be doing business with Chancy Peterson and his mob.”
“Any way you can help me find her?”
This time Lisk’s pause was heavy, his eyes shadowed. He didn’t have to say what he thought of the odds of finding Shana or her likely fate. It was in his look, etched in the lines across his forehead, the grim set of his mouth.
“I’ll see what I can find out, but I have to be careful. Besides, I swore to two other men who are like my brothers that I wouldn’t breathe a word about this to anyone. Or I could be next to disappear.” He looked down and added, “I have four kids.” An apology.
“Call me at this number.” Dane handed him a card where he’d written his throwaway cell number.
The man nodded. Dane slapped his back and shook his hand. Then he walked away.
It was in this moment that panic set in. He forced past it with a rush of angry adrenaline.
Shana was gone and someone on the police force had her. Someone high up. Someone bad.
But what the hell did they want with her?
Because one thing Dane was certain of: she was alive.
Whatever it was that gave him his intuition, his sixth sense, also gave him confidence that he would know for certain if Shana was . . . not alive.
There was something missing from this puzzle and he’d have to figure it out.
He also needed to figure out where the hell they had her. That was more important than who had her at this point. Once he got her back, they’d figure out who was behind it together.
He returned to Billy, who sat at the bar alone, waiting for him.
“I got confirmation.”
“Of what?”
Dane forgot he wasn’t talking to a professional. Poor Billy would need to catch up fast.
Dane lowered his voice and leaned in.
“I got confirmation that Shana is being held by the police.”
“The hell you say? How? Where?”
“Keep your voice down. I don’t know where and you already know how. Ivory took her in. He was waiting for her and she walked into their arms.”
“Let’s get her.” Billy rose from his stool, slamming his mug on the bar.
“Slow down, cowboy.”