Deep Autumn Heat (28 page)

“Honestly? Yes. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I want someone with you at all times. When you’re going to and coming from work. When you’re running errands. When you’re working late. And you can’t stay at your place alone anymore. At least not until we figure out where Frank is and what he’s up to.”

“Well, if it’ll make things easier, I think I may be heading out of town later this week.”

Cole brightened. “It would. I’d get the chance to get some work done on this case without worrying about your safety. Where are you going?”

“New York.” Lexie stared at Cole, daring him to react. If she’d hoped to get a rise out of him, she was disappointed.

Cole kept a perfectly neutral look on his face and when he spoke, his voice was calm. “Good. I’m glad you’re getting out of town and I hope you have fun. How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“I haven’t decided yet. A few days, probably.”

He nodded. “Let me know, and I’ll make sure the Sheriff’s Department has you covered before you leave town and after you get back.”

At that moment, Emma walked through the door frame. “Lexie, hi! How was your
night?” She wrapped one arm around Jimmy’s waist and leaned into him.

“Fine, thanks. I really appreciate your hospitality. And so soon after you got back from your honeymoon. I know it’s a big imposition.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m just happy we can help out while things are … unsettled,” she finished diplomatically.

“So you’re off to work early, both of you?”

“Actually,” Emma said carefully, “we knew you get up so early, so we just shifted our schedules a bit to accommodate your early mornings at the LMK.”

Lexie was truly touched. “You did this for me?”

“It wasn’t a big deal at all. We were happy to help.”

“I can’t believe you two,” Lexie said, looking from Emma to Jimmy. “You are incredible friends. And Cole, sleeping here instead of at Val’s.” She put her tea mug down on the kitchen table, then walked up to them. “Come here, all of you,” she said, pulling them in for a group hug. Then she laughed. Though Emma was small, Jimmy and Cole were huge. She felt like a child hugging her parents. “I just want this to be over with so I can get back to my life and you can get back to yours.”

Emma gave a quick look to Cole. “We know. But it’ll be so much safer this way.”

Lexie nodded in agreement.

* * *

It was settled. Lexie was to work Tuesday through Friday morning, and then she would leave for New York City after the breakfast rush. Buster would be in charge Saturday and Sunday, and she would return late Monday before the LMK reopened for breakfast on Tuesday.

Lexie still wasn’t certain whether or not Buster had blabbed to Sebastian about her catering schedule, and she probably never would be. Buster was keeping his mouth shut, and Lexie knew from experience that once he had made up his mind not to talk, nothing could sway
him.

Because of her light work schedule, Lexie was optimistic that things would go smoothly at the LMK while she was away. Unfortunately, there was one potential problem she should have taken into account—their unreliable produce supplier.

“Buster!” Lexie yelled into the grill room from the prep kitchen at six-fifteen on Tuesday morning. “Did you hear anything from Art?”

Buster ducked his head into the kitchen and shook his head. “No.”

Lexie tapped her foot impatiently. “He was supposed to drop the produce off at five forty-five. It’s already after six! We need that stuff.”

“Did you check with Marlene about getting out of the contract?”

“I forgot.”

Buster grunted. “Call Art to figure out what’s going on.”

“Argh,” Lexie grumbled. This was the last thing she wanted to deal with before her vacation. She picked up the wall phone and dialed. Then she hung up and dialed again. Both times, the phone rang and rang, but no one picked up. “Buster! I’m not getting any answer,” she complained.

“Leave a message.”

“I can’t. The answering machine isn’t picking up.”

“Try his cell.”

Lexie found her small address book and dialed Art’s cell phone. He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Art, hi. It’s Lexie Meyers here at the LM Kitchen. We’re missing some produce from you guys. Are you running late, or what?”

“Late? You haven’t gotten your stuff yet?”

“Art, this has got to be the fourth time in two weeks you or your guys haven’t delivered on time. And we’ve been having trouble for well over a month! It’s getting tough for me to keep justifying buying from you.”

“Look, I’m really sorry the boys are late. I don’t know what’s going on. I’ll call them.”

“Call them? You mean you’re not even there?”

“Not this morning, no.”

Lexie sighed. “Art, I can’t wait. Breakfast at the LMK starts at seven-thirty. I need those supplies now. In fact, I needed them half an hour ago.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Art said. “The distribution center is at the Grange—you know, that old farm building by Mashpee Road. If you need the stuff right away, you could go down and pick it up yourself. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the best I can do for you. I’ll give you a fifteen percent discount on the goods, and I won’t charge for delivery.”

Lexie sighed again, hoping that Art could tell how irritated she was. “I don’t think we have a choice. I’ll head down there. But Art? If this keeps happening, I’m going to have to find someone else.”

“I understand, Lexie. Thanks for giving me another chance.”

She hung up the phone and shook her head. The fact that Art wasn’t even at the warehouse this morning signaled to Lexie that he wasn’t on top of the day-to-day operations of his own business.

“Buster,” Lexie called, “I got through. We’re going to the Grange to get our stuff. You’re driving.” Just then, Isis and Jenny came through the door.

“Can’t one of them come with me?” said Buster, indicating the two women. “You’re better off staying here. Safer.”

“No,” Lexie said. “I’m the one who orders the produce, and I’m the one who approves it. Besides, I’ll be with you.” She turned to the women. “Ladies, Buster and I have to run a quick errand. Can you hold down the fort until we get back?”

“Absolutely,” Isis responded. “Just give me this morning’s instructions.” Lexie gave her a rundown on what still needed to be done. “We may not make it back for an hour. Open on time and do the best you can. Make me proud.”

Isis nodded. Buster plucked his worn coat from its hook and fished his keys out of his
pocket.

“See you soon, ladies,” Lexie said.

She and Buster drove in companionable silence. Within twenty minutes, they had arrived at the gravel driveway that led to the Grange. Unfortunately, someone had blocked the end of the driveway with a chain rope attached to two concrete posts and Buster couldn’t navigate his pickup truck around it.

“There’s no way we can carry the produce from the Grange back to the truck,” Lexie said. “I haven’t been here in a while, but I bet it’s at least a hundred yards to the Grange. See it through the trees?” Lexie pointed it out.

Buster grunted and got out of the driver’s side door. He examined the chain for a few moments, then walked back to Lexie, who was still in the passenger’s seat. “Bolted in. We’ll have to get one of Art’s guys to unlock it. Stay here.”

“No. I’ll come,” she said, undoing her seat belt.

“Lexie—” Buster warned.

“What’s the big deal?” she said.

Buster sighed, and Lexie knew she’d won. Grinning, she jumped out of the seat and slammed the door. She and Buster hopped over the chain and began the short trek to the Grange. As the old farm building came into view, Lexie took a second to appreciate its quiet beauty. Long and rectangular, it was about half the size of a football field, with peeling, faded red paint and a dull bronze weather vane on top. It was set in a large clearing, desolate and stark, surrounded by trees stripped of their leaves.

This was the old, real Cape Cod. Lexie took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, which now contained a hint of winter.

They had just reached the first window on the structure when, all of a sudden, Buster stopped in his tracks and grabbed her arm. Before she could think to ask him what was going on, he’d pressed her back against the side of the Grange and put his finger up to his lips, signaling that she should remain quiet.

His intense expression made her disinclined to argue. He indicated she should stay still, then he carefully wiped grime from the glass and peered inside.

Lexie’s heart was galloping in her chest. What was going on? Just then, she heard a man shouting. The pounding in her chest grew even louder.

Buster jerked his head away from the window. In two seconds, he was beside her, grabbing her arm. “Run, Lexie. Run!”

Before she could so much as turn, three large men burst from the side of the Grange and sped toward her and Buster. Surely they’d catch up to them in a matter of seconds.

“Get out of here! Go!” Buster yelled.

But she was frozen where she stood.

The men surrounded them in seconds. One carried a large knife. Another had some kind of metal hook. And the third held a length of chain.

“The woman didn’t see anything. Let her go,” Buster said.

The man with the hook laughed. “No can do, pal. You’re both staying. Permanently.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Buster said quietly.

“Yes,” Lexie piped in. “A big mistake. There’s a whole restaurant full of people who know exactly where we are right now and when we’re supposed to be back. You’d better let us go or else they’ll call the police.” Lexie’s voice sounded breathless, even to her own ears.

“We’ll be long gone by then, lady,” he laughed. “And so will you.” He stepped toward them menacingly, brandishing his wicked hook.

Lexie would never forget what happened next.

As the man stepped toward them, Buster reached out casually, as if he was about to shake his hand. In less than a second, Lexie heard a crunching noise. Dimly, she realized that Buster had broken the man’s wrist.

Lexie didn’t even have time to blink before the man let out an unholy scream. “You bastard! You broke my wrist! Get him!” he screamed to his cohorts.

The man with the knife stepped forward. Buster had him disarmed in under three
seconds, and when the man grabbed him by the arms Buster brought his booted foot down in a well-placed stomp on his attacker’s leg. Screaming in pain, the man fell to the ground, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

Buster looked expectantly at the man with the chain. Unlike the others, he didn’t seem brash or cocky. He simply waited quietly, a determined look in his eye.

This man is the most dangerous
. Instinctively, Lexie knew she should not be anywhere near these two men when they went on the attack, and she backed up against the side of the Grange.

Buster and the chain man circled each other warily, sizing each other up and ignoring the two men who were writhing in pain on the ground. They were about the same size and the same build—tall and lanky. Buster looked to have twenty years on the other man, which would surely put him at a disadvantage. Lexie got ready to run, just in case Buster wasn’t the victor. She prayed she wouldn’t have to.

The man lashed out with his chain, swinging it hard. It hit Buster in the upper back, making him stumble with the force of the impact. Lexie gasped as she saw Buster’s face contort in pain. While Buster was bent over, the man smashed him on the back again. Unconsciously, Lexie brought her hand to her mouth to muffle her own cry of anguish.

The man brought his arm back to smash the chain down again, but Buster dropped and rolled out of the way. When he was clear of danger, he stood up and stared the man down. Once again, he tried to hit Buster with the chain, but Buster had seemingly caught on to his pattern. As the chain lashed out, Buster caught it in his hand and yanked hard and low.

Caught off balance, the man stumbled, but he didn’t let go of his end of the chain. It was a mistake. As the man’s arm dipped, Buster lifted his leg and cracked it down hard. Lexie heard a sick snapping sound as the man’s forearm broke.

Buster let go of the chain and the man crumpled to the ground. Meanwhile, the man with the broken wrist was trying to get up. Buster grabbed him by the shoulder, turned him over, and punched him once, right in the face. He slumped to the ground.

Buster looked up at Lexie, breathing hard. Lexie rushed over toward him, dodging the men on the ground. She wrapped her arm around his back and tried to help him stand.

“Buster, oh, my God! We have to get out of here. Come on.”

Buster rose with obvious stiffness. Lexie still had her arm around him when she felt something sticky. She pulled her hand away and saw blood. It was seeping through Buster’s shirt, which had been flayed by the chain. The sight of his blood combined with the snap of breaking bones, which was still ringing in her ears, made her sick to her stomach.

She suppressed the urge to vomit, knowing they needed to get away from the Grange as quickly as possible. Together, they stumbled back to Buster’s truck. Lexie helped him into the passenger seat and took the wheel herself, wiping her bloody hand on her jeans.

“Key?” she asked, holding out her clean hand. Buster placed it into her waiting palm and without any further delay, she shoved it into the ignition. Lexie rolled down her window to get some fresh air. She breathed deeply in and out, trying to settle her stomach. After they’d been driving for a moment, Lexie spoke.

“Buster, what did you see inside the Grange?”

He shook his head.

“This is ridiculous. They’ve already pegged me as someone to kill, regardless of what I saw or didn’t see. You may as well tell me.”

Buster was quiet for a long time. Then he spoke, his voice gravelly. “Dope. Looked like that new designer junk they’re peddling on the streets—‘bath salts,’ they call ’em.”

Lexie was confused. “Bath salts? Like the stuff you throw in the tub?”

He shook his head. “ ‘Bath salts’ is just the drug’s nickname. It’s really mephedrone or MDPV, both powerful stimulants and hallucinogens. You can smoke it, snort it, eat it, inject it—whatever. Has a fishy smell, which is why I’m guessing that’s what it was.”