Chapter 10 #3
He sent several texts to Derek, looking for a follow-up, but got nothing, and that made him even more worried.
It was probably twenty minutes since he’d called him, but, if Derek had only stayed and had waited in place—a place that Riley actually knew how to get to—then there wouldn’t be more problems like this.
He moved as fast as he could, and Cain, appearing to understand that there was a particular urgency to this, moved faster too. The two of them stayed just barely ahead of each other, one passing and then the other, as they moved with a precision that he really appreciated.
He didn’t know whether Derek was prepared to keep the War Dog, but, if not, Riley was very quickly becoming attached to Cain, hoping that maybe he could keep Cain himself.
But was that fair? He didn’t even have a home for him—or a home for himself for that matter—and that he would have to sort out fairly quickly.
It was dark, clammy here. That heaviness here would start to lighten up a bit soon, as the air moved around a bit.
Yet, for the moment, it was definitely not the kind of atmosphere that gave anyone a feeling of confidence about being down here.
Still, the old man was supposed to be here, unless he too was caught up in some mess that nobody had really considered.
Riley considered that now, as he moved swiftly through the tunnels, wondering just how much was actually happening, how much was contrived, and how much the old man knew—if Derek had anything to do with it all.
He completely tossed out any thought that Derek would have had something to do with his own son’s death, but that didn’t absolve Derek from some involvement that led to the original accident that may have happened to his son.
Derek or Timmy also could have stirred up something without realizing it, or, if realizing it, did not understand just how quickly it would go south.
Still considering all those options, Riley moved quickly, yet saw no sign of the old man. Hating that sense of a trap looming ahead of him, he went a little bit slower as he checked things out using all his senses, trying to be fully aware, meanwhile keeping the War Dog close.
Riley didn’t want Cain on a leash, so he would have free access to defend himself.
If the dog went in the water, he would probably swim his way out.
To a certain extent, Riley himself would probably do the same.
Yet, as he heard the waves splashing farther ahead, he wondered just how much of that was all part of this whole trap.
He moved slowly as he got closer to the location he had been told about.
As he arrived, he realized that the old man was not here and that he saw no signs that he ever had been.
Frowning and hating this it’s-a-trap feeling, Riley moved slowly but steadily forward. As he got a little bit farther, a growl deep in Cain’s throat made Riley stop and take stock. He whispered, “I hear you, boy. We’ve got trouble ahead.”
They just didn’t know what kind of trouble.
He inched forward, trying to remember where the tunnel opened up, whether he could stay hidden if more than one person was waiting on him up ahead.
The last thing he wanted was to get into a face-off with people who had spent the bulk of their lives down here, particularly if they had ill intent.
With the dog’s growl still present and yet so soft that nobody else would hear it but Riley, the two of them moved one step closer to the inevitable mess or trap that lay ahead.
As Riley came around the next corner, he heard two men grumbling up ahead.
Yet they seemed to be on the move. Riley gave them the lead, following silently behind them.
“How long do we have to wait? Jesus, it shouldn’t take him that long to get here.”
“I don’t know, but you heard what he said. He’s coming, so we have to keep an eye out.”
“Sure, keep an eye out but for how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you really want to be here?”
There was a pause, and he replied, “He really won’t do it, will he? Surely we haven’t come to that point.”
“I don’t know what point you think we’ve come to,” he replied quietly, “but no way in hell he’ll let all his hard work go now that he’s so close.”
“So close to what? That’s the thing we really need to take a look at. Like nobody ever guaranteed him that he would get the pub. So why is he so hell-bent on getting it anyway?”
“Why do you think? It’s worth money. He could sell it for millions.”
“Millions?” he asked, his tone one of shock.
Riley tried to decipher whose voices he heard, but it was hard to hear anything clearly in here. They were walking and talking, but he couldn’t sense who these two guys were. Yet Riley had been wrong before. So being wrong right now would mean something completely different.
“I still can’t believe he found the Zodiac.”
“Not like it was hidden.”
“But it was hidden. We bricked it up. And we did a damn good job of it too.”
“Sure, but he found that fake detour. Once he noted that, then the Zodiac was pretty easy to find.”
“Maybe, but I figured I had done a hell of a job.”
“You did, but we have to remember this guy has military training and experience. He knows lots, and so he’s a wild card.”
“Yeah, but so what? I mean, didn’t you see? He’s a cripple.”
Riley heard that, and his own senses flared because so many people just wrote him off when they realized that he was missing a leg. It drove him nuts, but he refused to let it affect him.
Especially not right now.
They would see soon enough just what being a cripple actually meant—or maybe not. Maybe they were the kind of men who would just see what they wanted to see. In that case, it would be nothing like what they ever expected.
Riley moved silently and inched forward, just to where he could see them.
Two men. Hard to see their faces yet, as he was behind them.
When they stopped to whisper to each other, he got a profile look at each of them.
He noted a strong family resemblance. He couldn’t mistake that.
He knew that this would turn out badly now that there had been a death.
The two men were on the move again, still talking.
Yet were more voices up ahead? The damp stone walls echoed with weird tones as Riley struggled to hear the conversation.
“Doesn’t sound like it’s going too well,” muttered the younger man.
“It’ll go just fine,” said the other one, his tone curt. “Once everybody gets what they want,” he noted, “things will go back to normal.”
Riley took several steps, following silently behind this pair, and almost slipped as he hit a slimy spot. Taking several deep breaths, he hurried to catch up to hear more.
“How do things go back to normal when you’re basically cheating somebody out of, what did you say, a million bucks for that pub? Jesus, man, that’s heavy.”
“Yeah, it is heavy.”
“Why does Grandpa lose his pub to him? Why does he think it should be his?” the guy asked.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s Grandpa’s headache, and he can sort that out himself.”
“I’m not worrying about it, but it would be nice if I understood. Everybody always treats me like a kid,” he grumbled, resentment filling his tone.
The other man laughed. “That’s because you are a kid. You’re not even twenty yet, are you?”
“Well, I might not be twenty,” he replied bitterly, “but that doesn’t mean I want to end up in jail for some BS like this.”
“I guess it depends on what you consider BS,” he stated, “because, if you just lost everything, I mean, is that BS?”
Their discussion continued, a lazy drawl accenting one man’s tone, but in no way was it nice.
The kid, as if realizing that he better shut up, just whined, “It would sure be nice if we could leave soon.”
His partner in crime replied, “Well, the sooner he gets here, the sooner we can leave. So, no point in making a mess out of all this. Get a grip. You’re starting to get on my nerves. So shut the fuck up, will you?”
The kid shut up, as if finally realizing what he’d signed up for—family or not—would not be what he thought it would be.
Riley took a closer look around, watching for any sign of the old man because he still didn’t know if Derek would be a part of this … or another victim.
The phone call had been clear enough. Derek was going into tunnels, and he would find out what the hell was going on, but that could have been a ruse to get Riley to come down here—where somebody could ditch him and then just sail off happily, knowing that everything was taken care of.
No loose ends left behind, at least not easily found loose ends.
That thought Riley had to keep in mind. Plus, after the mob boss discussion with Gail last night, plus seeing a list of her father’s clients, Riley had to wonder if Gail’s father wasn’t involved here somehow because, if he were, that would be a whole new ball game.
He considered multiple scenarios in his head, trying to see if Gail’s father could be involved in this, and Riley noted, if smuggling were involved, hell yes, Montoya Ltd could be something to consider.
Riley just didn’t have enough data. He wished he could contact Badger to see how the database run came out on Montoya Ltd’s clients, but down here, there was no such things as bars.
Something else people needed to think about when they were in underground tunnels.