Tangled Lies (27 page)

Again, she glanced around the busy dining room before she spoke. “This town has its own routines and schedules and things that happen on a regular basis, and folks don’t like that messed with.”

Jesse wanted to shake her until she stopped talking in riddles and told him exactly what she meant. Every single detail. Instead, he kept his voice equally low. “Any examples you might be willing to share?”

“Well, now, if someone in town had a new toy to try out, for example, something they might could use to transport certain things . . . they might not take kindly to other people knowing about it, see?”

He met her eyes, thinking of the minisub. “What are you saying, Marge?”

“I’m saying this town has secrets, and Sasha has been trying to dig them out. That can be a dangerous game.”

“It’s not a game.”

“No, it surely isn’t. Somebody could get hurt bad.” She paused. “It’s time to back off, Jesse, and tell Sasha to back off, too. Before it’s too late.”

Jesse clenched his hands around his coffee mug. “It might already be too late.”

She reached down and gripped his forearm so hard he thought she might draw blood. “Then grab that lady of yours and leave town. Today.”

Now it was Jesse’s turn to scan the room. “If someone in this town were hiding . . . something, where would you start looking?”

Someone called out, “Hey, Marge, refill?”

“Coming, Ed,” she answered, and walked away.

She didn’t say a word as she brought Jesse his breakfast, but when she came by later and handed him his check, he realized she’d slipped another piece of paper under it. He slid it in front of the check and read,
Old Donovan place. Cedar Road.
Their eyes met, and she nodded.

When she rang him up at the old-fashioned cash register, he said, “Thank you, Marge.”

“I wouldn’t dawdle. I think time is running out.”

The hair on the back of Jesse’s neck stood up. He’d been thinking the same thing.

Where was the danger? Who had Sasha? Why?

He held the door for Chief Monroe and debated asking him for help for about five seconds. He discarded the idea and headed for the truck. He didn’t trust the chief. With Sasha’s life on the line, he was going with his gut.

When he reached the truck, Bella started barking like crazy. He stopped, looked at the frantic dog. “What is it, girl?” She tugged his shorts and tried to pull him away from the truck. Jesse looked up and down the quiet side street, every sense on alert.

He tuned out Bella’s barking for a moment as he studied his truck. He crouched down, and for a split second, he thought he saw a flame under the cab. He didn’t have time to do anything but grab Bella—all ninety pounds of her—and dive around the corner of the building just as his truck exploded.

Chapter 19

Jesse ended up on his back with Bella on top of him, both of them shaking. He slowly sat up and wrapped his arms around the dog, rubbing her fur.

“Good girl, Bella. Good girl. Are you hurt?” He ran his hands all over her, but she seemed fine.

He heard pounding footsteps and shouts in the distance, then the telltale wail of a siren. He and Bella stayed where they were, trying to catch their breath. Clouds of smoke billowed around them, coating everything in acrid fumes.

But in that moment, clarity speared him like a sword.

They thought he was dead.

He eased to his feet, feeling worse by the minute, and motioned for Bella to follow. It might be good to let them go on thinking that for a little while.

The two walked down the side street to the alley, then off into the woods. Before long, he found himself on a narrow path he hadn’t walked since he and Sasha used to ditch class back in high school. Old memories flooded through him, and it felt like he’d never left.

They followed the trail all the way back to the woods behind the marina, searching for any sign of her.

He found nothing.

He spun in a circle, heart pounding as the seconds ticked away.
Where are you, Sash?

When Sasha woke again, it took a few minutes to clear the fog in her brain enough to figure out where she was. She took several deep breaths through her nose, trying to control the nausea. If she didn’t know better, she’d think she had the world’s worst hangover. Once her stomach settled a bit, she lay quietly for a while, as she worked to get her fuzzy brain to cooperate.

They had drugged her. She tried to sit up, but she’d forgotten about being tied, and she immediately flopped back down.

“Ow, dang it.”

She swallowed hard and rubbed her face against her shoulder, trying to slide the blindfold up a bit again from where it had slipped down. The room spun, her stomach churned, and she held herself perfectly still until everything settled. She had to get out of here before they came back and drugged her again. Or worse.

Once she could see under the blindfold, she scanned the darkening space and realized another day had gone by. She was running out of time. Fast.

Something glinted, metal of some kind, and she realized they’d left her a dog’s water bowl. She wriggled over, incredibly grateful to find it full of water. She was so thirsty, her tongue felt swollen. She knelt in front of the bowl and tried to lap up water without pitching forward and dumping the bowl. Without her hands for balance, she got several mouthfuls before she fell, knocking the bowl out of reach and sloshing precious water over the side.

She lay there panting, trying to figure out what to do. Her thoughts seemed to float away before she could grab them, and she found her eyes drifting shut.

“No, stay awake, dummy.” Her voice seemed to ricochet around inside her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut. OK, focus. She had to focus.

She rolled to her side and squinted at the walls, trying to find a glimmer of light, something that would offer a chance to escape.

Suddenly her stomach heaved, and she emptied all the water she’d swallowed. The room spun, pain making her ears ring.

Before she could formulate a plan, the blackness overtook her again.

Jesse and Bella combed the woods behind the marina but came up empty. He needed a vehicle to search the place Marge suggested. He eased up beside the shed, Bella tucked at his side. He kept a grip on her collar lest she run up to the house.

“They all think you’re dead, you know.”

He pulled back his clenched fist just in time, heart pounding.

“Holy cow, Blaze, I almost took you out.”

She stepped out of the shadows and shrugged. Then she threw herself into his arms, and he sucked in a breath as his ribs screamed in protest.

She immediately pulled back. “Sorry, I forgot about your ribs. I’m glad you’re not dead.”

He grinned. “Yeah, me, too.”

She cocked her head, studying his face. “Why are you letting them think you died in the explosion?”

How much to tell this too-smart teen? He decided she could handle the truth. “Because I don’t think my truck randomly exploded.”

At his words, Blaze wrapped her arms around her chest. “You think it was deliberate.”

“I do.”

“Did you find Sasha?”

“No. Not yet,” he added, refusing to think about any other outcome.

“Pop and Mama Rosa were asking about Sasha. I told them she was with you so they wouldn’t worry.”

“That was probably smart. But that left you to worry all by yourself.”

Her chin came up, and he was reminded—again—of how much she resembled Sasha at that age. “I can handle it.”

He stepped closer and wrapped her in a gentle hug. “I know you can, Blaze. But that doesn’t mean you should, not alone.”

She leaned back and met his eyes. “Where is she? Do you think someone took her?”

Right now, that was his working theory. “I’m trying to check all the angles.”

She pulled out of his arms. “Please. That’s the kind of grown-up doublespeak I hate.”

He huffed out a breath. Debated. “OK, truth. Yes, I think someone took her. I don’t know who and I don’t know why. Maybe the search for Tony. Maybe because they don’t want me to race tomorrow.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to keep looking. Will you look after Bella? I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“You don’t have a car.”

“Right. I was hoping you could bring me Sasha’s keys.”

She shook her head. “I already looked for them. They’re not here. She must have had them with her when she . . . when . . . I couldn’t find a spare,” she finished.

Jesse grinned. “Then it’s a good thing I remember how to hot-wire a car from my misspent youth.”

“When they ask about Sasha, what should I say? I don’t want to lie.”

“Nope. Don’t. Just say you haven’t heard from her.”

“You’ll find her?” In that moment, Blaze looked every bit the scared teen she was. He walked over and gave her another quick hug. “I won’t stop until I do. Take care of Bella and your folks for me in the meantime.” In moments, he had the Jeep hot-wired and was roaring out of the marina.

He headed out toward the place Marge at the Blue Dolphin had recommended. He pulled out his phone and plugged what little he knew of the location into his GPS, which he’d named Linda.

“Come on, come on, Linda. Tell me where it is,” he muttered as Linda tried to figure out where he wanted to go. Finally she spit out a location about twenty-five miles north of Safe Harbor.

He felt the minutes tick by the farther he drove. His only consolation was that this location seemed remote enough to effectively hide someone. He refused to dwell on the possibility that whoever took Sasha might have done more than hide her.

The two-lane highway narrowed to one. Then the pavement gave way to dirt and gravel. He bounced over ruts in the road, ducking whenever palm fronds slapped the Jeep as he went by. This road obviously wasn’t well traveled, which upped his conviction he was headed in the right direction. Linda continued to give instructions, and he dutifully turned left, then right, then left again before he skidded to a stop before a huge, gaping hole. It stretched the width of the dirt track, and had he not been paying attention, the Jeep would have disappeared into the opening. He stopped inches from the hole and climbed out, peering into the darkness below. This sinkhole must have opened up recently.

Behind him, Linda announced he had reached his destination. He stopped and turned in a circle, looking for the place Marge had described, but he saw nothing but pine trees and scrub palms. There was nothing here.

Frustrated and feeling he’d just wasted precious time, he plugged the name in again. Linda directed him to another dead end. And another. And one more. When his GPS finally spit out an area about fifteen miles southeast of town, in what looked like the back end of a nature preserve, he decided to give it one more try.

He glanced up at the sun, appalled at how much time had gone by. Wincing as the Jeep bounced over the ruts in the dirt track, he retraced his route to Safe Harbor, then headed southeast. Not sure what else to do, he followed Linda’s instructions off the pavement and onto yet another dirt road, which wasn’t unusual out here, but proved tricky with darkness closing in. He’d forgotten just how fast it got dark away from the ambient light of town.

Even with the high beams on, visibility steadily decreased. Heavy underbrush scraped both sides of the Jeep as he went by, and mosquitos the size of small birds swarmed around his head. He tried to see into the woods and find whatever Marge told him was out here, anything that resembled a homestead, but he couldn’t make out a thing.

Clouds of dust billowed behind him as he bounced over potholes and tracks left by other vehicles.

Wait. He stopped the Jeep and climbed out to get a better look. Yes, these were fresh tire tracks. It hadn’t rained in what, three days? Otherwise, they would have been washed away. Someone had driven this way recently, in a vehicle with big tires and deep treads.

Hope filled him. Finally. He followed the tire tracks, aware that if someone were watching him, his headlights would make him an easy target. He couldn’t worry about that now. He had to find Sasha.

He wished he had his gun, but he hadn’t gone to the trouble of getting it back from the Tampa police yet. He hadn’t thought he’d need it.

He shook his head. He wouldn’t think about that. If he had it to do over, he’d have done the same thing to protect Ethan, so it was a moot point.

Ahead, water ran across the road, which wasn’t unusual in this low, marshy area. He kept his foot steady on the accelerator and drove into the water. Suddenly the ground fell away, and the Jeep sank down farther than he’d expected.
No, no, no. Don’t quit on me now.

He struggled to keep the Jeep moving forward, but the steep drop had stopped his momentum.

He kept giving it steady pressure, hoping that would get him moving again, but mud spewed out from under the tires and made him sink even farther. He slammed a hand on the steering wheel. He reached over to the glove box and rooted around. He spotted a small flashlight.

“Atta girl, Sash,” he mumbled as he flicked it on and climbed out of the Jeep.

He stepped out into calf-deep water, mud sucking down his flip-flops. He aimed the light around and up onto the banks, looking for something he could put under the tires to provide some traction.

Just then the Jeep sputtered, coughed, and died.

“No, dang it.” He sloshed back to the driver’s side and looked at the gauges. He’d run out of gas. He wanted to throw something or howl in frustration. He’d like to blame Sasha, but he hadn’t even looked at the gauge when he climbed in.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Now what? How was he going to find her? He thought for a moment, then turned off the headlights. He climbed up into the Jeep and stood on the driver’s seat and waited for his eyes to adjust. Then he took his time, scanning in every direction, searching for a building or something that would give him a target.

He was ready to give up when he saw something in the distance, between a stand of trees. Was that a roof? He waited, eyes steady on the location. Yes, he’d swear that was the roof of what was probably a barn. Since there wasn’t anything else out here for miles, that had to be what he was looking for. Now all he had to do was get there.

If that wasn’t the place . . . he wouldn’t let his mind go there. He just had to keep moving.

He rummaged around under Sasha’s seat, hoping she kept some type of weapon stashed. He grinned when his hand closed over the handle of a knife. He pulled it out and strapped it to his belt, then took the flashlight and started running.

His best bet was to keep following the tire tracks. With any luck, Marge hadn’t sent him on a wild goose chase and he’d find Sasha there.

Just the thought of what she might be facing had him racing down the road, ignoring his aching ribs. He kept moving, flashlight pointing the way. He had to find her.

Quick.