Chapter 21
M ichelle parked a block down from the Songbird nightclub. Elaine had gone in ten minutes ago. Michelle saw Nick’s text. Great minds think alike. She’d come to the same conclusion fifteen minutes ago.
Elaine and Jonny? She’d seen weirder things. Age was just a number, right?
Her fingers were on the keypad, mid-text to Nick, when a message from Jim popped up.
Jim: Keep an eye on the aunt. I’ll call you soon.
Michelle: Already on it.
She wanted answers but didn’t push. Her brother—sure, but the detective—not if she valued her job.
If she stared at that door any harder, a vein would pop in her head. It was as if she could magically will Elaine to appear. Every so often, she scanned the street. Not much action this time of day in this part of town. This block came to life after dark.
Ten minutes later, the only action was a stray dog doing his business on a vacant lot. She turned her attention back to the club and hoped she didn't get an aneurysm.
A mental clock ticked in her mind. She rubbed her eyes and then leaned down to crank up the heat .
A knock sounded on her window.
What the…?
Elaine stood just beyond the glass—a gun in her fur-lined gloved hand.
Michelle froze, but her fingers itched to pull her weapon.
“Don’t. Just get out.” Elaine’s eyes were cold, calculating, and a little crazed. Nothing like the professional assistant Michelle had seen in the office.
Michelle’s mind blanked. All the protocols and procedures flew from her mind. This wasn’t the first time she had a gun pointed at her, but it was the first time she’d been blindsided by it.
With one hand in the air, she angled to the window, letting the camera on her vest record the incident. Quietly, she placed the other hand on the door handle.
Her eyes darted side to side, scanning for bystanders. No one. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Elaine’s grin rivaled the devil himself. “You act like it’s my first time.”
Michelle dropped her gaze. “Is that the gun you used on Jonny?”
“You think I’m that dumb? He wasn’t shot.”
She was right, but they didn’t let that detail out to the public. No way she could call for backup without Elaine seeing her. She needed to disarm her.
“What’s that on your dress?” She gestured to the woman’s designer skirt.
When Elaine looked down, Michelle flung the door open, narrowly missing the weapon in the other woman’s hand.
Damn, not close enough, but it was something. Elaine jumped back, a heel catching on ice. She wobbled like a figure skater doing a whirl. Unfortunately, the woman had the grip of an Olympic arm wrestler. She was going down. The gun in her hand wavered.
This was Michelle’s chance. She had her weapon and the split second of distraction.
Muscle memory had Michelle grabbing her taser instead of her firearm. One shot and the woman dropped with 50,000 volts of electricity.
As Elaine flopped on the ground, Michelle kicked the gun from her body. Reaching for her cuffs, she heard a click of a gun cock.
“Drop it.”
The feel of cold metal on her temple had her lifting her hands, taser pointing to the sky.
“Fuck. I wish I could have done that.” She knew that voice. But who?
With the gun at her head, she saw a toe kick Elaine’s now still leg. “Get up.”
Michelle chanced a peek and found the owner of the club, Stigman, dark cap, stylist coat. How had she not seen this?
As Elaine came around, the owner picked up her gun and pocketed it. “Come on. We need to get her into the club.”
The look on the other woman’s face was murder. Not for Michelle, but for the man who just saved her from arrest.
“I had it under control,” Elaine hissed.
“Sure you did, right up until she tased your ass.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“I would if I didn’t have to save your butt again. Forty-three years, nothing changes.” He yanked the gun from her holster and tossed it to Elaine.
Michelle got a good look at him. They had the same eyes, the same cleft in the chin .
Brother? Well, fuck. This family was going to kill Michelle yet.
Elaine grumbled as she followed them to the club.
The heat rushed over Michelle as the door closed behind them, but it did nothing to warm the icy chill that settled in her bones the moment she saw the gun. If anything, the click of the latch on the empty club’s door chilled her even more.
***
“Joel, now what are we going to do with her?” Panic filled Elaine’s face.
“Shut up. I’m thinking.”
The gun jabbed between Michelle’s shoulder blades, spurring her to move forward. They led her to a back room behind the stage. Rows of mirrors surrounded by lights lined the walls. She scanned the surface of the makeup stations for a weapon. Brushes, combs, hairpieces… anything?
Maybe she could stab an eye out with one of the rattail combs. Defeated, she slumped. She could probably disarm one of them, but two? Not a chance. Chuck Norris she was not.
As they passed through the room out into a hall, she eyed the stairs going up. “What’s up there?”
“The roof.” Joel paused.
The perfect location to shoot at someone in the alley.
He looked at her, then back up the stairs.
She could see the internal debate if they should go up there. Getting a body down again would be difficult, or at the least messy. She gulped. She would be that body. Think. Think.
He must have thought better of it and ushered her into a room with costumes. Sequins and feathers covered every inch of the room .
“Grab me something to tie her up.” He forced Michelle into a chair. Elaine held out a long purple feather boa. “What the fuck am I going to do with that? There’s an electrical cord by the mirrors.”
“Then why didn’t you say that?” She huffed and wrapped the boa around her neck and yanked the cord, and mumbled, “What does he think, I’m an idiot? These are high quality accessories.”
She yanked again. Nothing. “What the? It’s not coming out.”
“Watch her. I have to do everything. This is the last time.” Joel got on the floor to work the cords free.
Michelle watched the siblings squabble. Her mind whirled. Could she divide and conquer? Now was her chance. She side-eyed Joel as she whispered to Elaine, “Why do you let him treat you like that?”
Elaine’s gaze cut to her brother, currently cussing about electrical staples.
Now! Michelle bolted from the chair and hit Elaine with a flying tackle that would make the Vikings’ defensive coach proud.
Catlike nails scratched her face, and they scuffled. The gun skittered across the floor. Elaine reached for it.
Oh no you don’t. Michelle yanked the boa with all her might. Elaine jerked back.
She was right. Quality.
Elaine twisted and turned, unwrapping the purple garment from her neck.
Michelle dropped the feather boa and pinned her in a half-Nelson with an arm around her neck. Elaine’s struggle was short but not short enough.
A gun fired. Concrete chips flew from the wall. A second later, pain radiated through her arm. Fuck. He shot me. Michelle stared at the blood dripping from her sleeve. She slapped her hand over the wound .
They froze. Joel stood over them with a gun in one hand and a cord in the other.
“You could have shot me?” Elaine’s lip puffed out.
His expression said he would have been fine with that. “Enough. You up.” He pointed at Elaine. “You, on your stomach.”
Michelle’s breath released. Panic beat in her chest like a kettledrum. This was it. She would be dead before the day was out. Her only hope was that someone would burst through the door to rescue her. Her mind knew Jim was her most likely bet, but her heart cried out for Nick.
***
Nick groaned as he hung up with the reindeer wrangler. He hated Plan B, but time had run out.
His phone rang. Number unknown. With hesitation, he answered. “Jolley.”
“Nick, it’s Jim Swenson. Is Michelle with you?” His voice was curt.
Nick straightened. Every nerve in his body was on alert. “No. She was following Smith’s aunt.”
“Fuck. She’s not answering my call. I told her not to engage, only surveillance.”
“This is your sister we are talking about?”
“Yeah, yeah. If you hear from her, let me know. ASAP.” The line went dead.
Michelle was in deep. He knew it. The police could track her vehicle, but no way he could sit here and wait. If his hunch was right, he could be there in eight minutes, five if he broke a few laws.
He grabbed his keys and coat and ran .
Six minutes later, he drove by the nightclub Smith worked at. He’d circled the back alley before parking by the front door. An empty police car sat one block down. It had to be Michelle’s. He called Jim and gave him the information.
“Stay put. I’m on my way.”
No fucking way Nick was waiting for the cops when Michelle could be inside bleeding out for all he knew.
The club didn’t open for another two hours. He grabbed his gun from his lockbox under the seat and shoved the hidden holster into his waistband on the back of his hip.
On the sidewalk, he scanned left and right—nobody, not even a vagrant in the doorways. That shouldn’t surprise him, being it was only ten degrees out. Moving to the door, he leaned against the side wall and knocked. Then louder. When his attempt went unanswered, he tried a different approach. He rounded to the back, picking up a box from a dumpster on the way by. At the back steel door, he pounded. “Delivery. Come on. My balls are freezing out here.”
Nick glanced at the camera above the door. Neither Smith’s aunt nor the club personnel knew him. So, he waited, not very patiently.
On his third set of knuckles, the door opened.
“I don’t have a—Hey!”
Nick kicked the guy back, pulling his gun at the same time. “Where is she?”
Movement flashed in the corner of his eye. He whirled. A woman slammed a door. Before it closed, he caught sight of Michelle on the ground.
Nick caught the weapon in the guy’s hand as he lifted his arm. No time to waste. Nick shot him twice in the chest. He kicked the gun from the man’s prone body .
“No!” His gun up, scanning side to side as he rushed through the back of the stage to the door. No fucking way he was losing her. He stepped back, and did a full force kick to the door, inches from the lock mechanism. It flew open, and a shot rang out. The shockwave of the bullet breezed by his head.
He dropped. Gun up, he fired. The woman crumbled. Her gun fired once more, in Michelle’s direction.
“NO!” Nick scrambled across the floor, trying to reach her before the bullet.
Her body jolted seconds before he covered her. “Shit, shit, shit. Mickey!”
As he cradled her face, police burst through the door. He didn’t even hear them announcing themselves. His full attention was on the woman in his arms, bleeding. “Medic. Now!”