Hot Mess (An Iron Tornadoes MC Romance Book 5) (9 page)

T
he drop location
is now totally secured. Some of our guys have been studying the place ever since Eduardo gave the address to Kristal this morning.

It's a nondescript home in a residential part of town. Two to three bedrooms houses with above ground pools in the backyards. Not the easiest place to case, not the hardest either.

So far, we haven't seen anything out of the ordinary. A few kids are out, racing on their bicycles around the community. Their mothers are likely preparing dinner and glancing out their windows every so often. It's a quiet neighborhood that practices a form of collective supervision.

Yeah, it takes a village.

The kids have almost all gone back home when Kristal’s mini car reaches the designated house. She's a bit early on schedule, but that's not anything that should make her contact suspicious. After all, she's supposed to be a bit anxious. Early's not bad.

Kristal parks her car in front of the house and looks around her. Is she trying to see if she can spot her protection? There's an electrician’s van right across from her and unmarked patrol cars ready to block all nearby intersections if needed. Hopefully she can't see any of us. If she could, the contact would never come.

I'm two houses away, hidden in a duplex undergoing major renovation. Turned out the foreman is someone Captain Stevens knows and he's agreed to let his crew finish early and let us in.

Stevens is not a happy camper today. He's given me an earful about keeping Kristal tucked away without telling him about her. The storm of his anger has blown over and we now sit in silence on a rolled up carpet looking out the window at Kristal's car.

Her instructions are to wait until five and then give the large envelope that supposedly never left her car to the person who will come and claim it.

Five minutes drag on and I'm feeling edgy. Captain Stevens gives me a warning glance and I stop fidgeting. I usually don’t mind the waits. I actually enjoy them since I'm comfortable with long silences. It's a good time to think about the pending cases and reflect without any interruptions.

But not today.

Today, I can't stand it.

Despite the fact that I've done everything I could think of to protect Kristal, I'm feeling uneasy.

My initial idea was to hide one of the smallest of our officers in the back of Kristal's car. Stevens nixed it. The vehicle is way too tiny for that. He's right and I didn't fight him on that. Obviously, where she's concerned, I'm unable to think normally.

Kristal is becoming impatient too. She opens the door of her car and stands up looking at the building.

As far as we know it's empty. There's not been any observable movement since this morning. A quick check on county records revealed the house is owned by snowbirds from Canada. They most likely won't get back before December.

Eduardo or someone from his group must know that and decided it would be a perfect meeting place.

Kristal starts pacing. Looks like it's her way to deal with stress. I can see her lips moving and I'm ready to bet dollars to pennies that she's repeating her mantra, the one she kept chanting Sunday night while digging a hole in the carpet of her room at the Styx,
“Everything's gonna be all right.”

Has it only been two days? Two days and I'm done for. Never would I have believed it. Not in a million years. Not me, I couldn't possibly fall so hard so fast.

Yet, I did.

And now she says she's mine ... and I believe her.

How incredible is that?

The familiar roar of a Harley catches my ear. I look around searching for the origin of the sounds. A biker rides down the block. He's wearing a black leather jacket with no patches and a full helmet. The black visor is down efficiently hiding his face. His speed is down to a crawl as he rolls by Kristal’s car. She ceases to pace and looks at him expectantly, her hand on the car door, ready to reach out for the package she has to deliver. False alarm, he doesn't stop.

Okay, so he's here to check out the place.

That's a good sign.

It means they're coming.

As soon as he's passed her he speeds up again and rolls away. I sort of expect him to ride by again, just to make sure everything's on the level. I would do a second pass if I were in his boots, but no, the street is quiet again.

Kristal resumes her pacing and then freezes again staring in the direction opposite to the house we're hiding in. What is she looking at?

I pick up a pair of binoculars and search the street to figure it out.

Two men are walking in her direction.

As far as I can tell there's nothing special about them. Well, aside from the fact that they're walking.

They could be two friends out for a leisurely stroll on a pleasant night. It's possible but not likely. No one walks around here.

Chances are they are her contact and she's frozen in place because she's recognized someone.

Come on, baby, don't panic. You can do this.

I move the binoculars on her and study her expression. Surprise and shock are painted on her face as well as something else. Sadness? Disappointment?

She covers her mouth with her hand and blinks furiously as she opens the passenger door of her car.

"What the heck is she doing?" Stevens grumbles as we both watch her take the envelope out of her car and slam the door shut.

The fuck if I know ... and just as I think I understand, Kristal loses it. In a few seconds, I watch her return to the driver seat and start her car.

She's running. Why?

The car pulls out of the parking spot and Kristal drives away. Her speed remains low until she reaches the two men. Through a rolled down window, she calls out to them. Without giving them a chance to answer, she throws the package out at their feet and drives away.

One of the men picks it up.

He looks vaguely familiar but I can't put a name on his face. Where do I know him from?

Lost in my thoughts, I hear Stevens yell in his radio and all hell breaks loose. Our men run out of the truck toward the two suspects. They only hesitate for a few seconds before raising their hands in surrender.

One of them is still holding what Kristal threw out of the car. At least we have this one holding the drugs.

Stevens and I rush out of the building and only when I get closer to our catch of the day, do I recognize one of the two men.

Oh man, this sucks. It really does, but at least now, I understand what happened.

* * *

"
J
ohn F. Russel
," I mutter between clenched teeth.

Captain Stevens catches my arms and stops me before we get within hearing distance of the two men who are now kneeling on the pavement being cuffed.

"You're not getting anywhere near that guy," he hisses. His tone is clear. There's no room for discussion.

"Fine," I raise my hands in a surrendering gesture.

"You're not saying one single word to him, you hear?"

"I said,
fine
." What more does he want from me? My gaze moves from Kristal's father to his partner. Eduardo?

"You're not talking to his partner either."

I turn to face Captain Stevens and take a deep breath. Remembering he's cut me a lot of slack today, I ask. "Do you want me off the case?" He shakes his head and I breathe a sigh of relief. "So if I can't interrogate the two suspects, what do you want me to do?"

"Look for the third one," he says. "Find the one who got away."

It takes me a few seconds before I understand what he means. He's not talking about the biker look out; he's talking about Kristal.

I'm about to protest that she's not a suspect, but I close my mouth before any sounds comes out. This is not the place nor the moment to have this discussion.

I open my mouth again to ask how she could possibly have gotten away with all our patrol cars on the prowl nearby and then thought better of it.

Since I've run out of stupid ideas and useless questions to ask, I give him the only answer he wants to hear.

"Will do."

Stevens keep staring at me and frowns. He wants me gone
now.
All right, I get it. As I turn slowly to get my bike parked in the backyard of our hiding place, I catch a glimpse of his expression. He's rolling his eyes and shaking his head in a
what-the-hell's-wrong-with-you?
motion.

I'm glad he's keeping the question to himself ‘cause I'm not proud of the obvious answer. Where Kristal's concerned all my blood runs south. That could be why my brain is no longer getting enough oxygen to work properly.

So where to look for her? Her grandmother's house? The old woman is the only family she has around here. Actually it's her only family, period. 'Cause John Russel is no father. The bastard actually makes my old man look good, and God knows Cracker is not father of the year material.

Riding toward the Pink Flamingo community, I try to figure out where else Kristal could have run. If I know my Kristal well - yeah
my Kristal
- she won't want to give the old woman any trouble. With a son like hers, she sure must have had more than her share.

I rack my brains but come up empty. The only thing I can think of is her driving back to New York. After all, she lived there most of her life. There's safety in familiar places. Furthermore, she sure must have some friend there.

The middle age woman at the security gate is all business. The embroidery on her breast pocket identifies her as Marge, head of security. First her manners are as starched as her uniform. She's all formal as she checks my badge before answering any question.

Once she's studied it with her reading glasses, she returns it to me and checks the day log.

"Nope, ain't nobody who came for Mrs. Russel," she tells me. "And that's the only way in, Officer Hatcher." Before I have a chance to thank her or ask anything else, she continues. "Now mind you, that's only if you're talking about a visitor driving a car." While turning the pages of the gate logbook she explains what she means. "If you're looking for someone riding a bike, that would be different ‘cause there's a few trails that lead into the community." She stops and squints at a note and then looks at me again. "She didn't get any visitors since last week."

"Oh, really?"

Marge wants to tell me more but she hesitates to do so. On one hand, she probably wants to respect the privacy of Kristal's grandmother, but on the other, she's curious. I wait in silence hoping that this is one of those places that runs on gossip and that she won't be able to resist telling me what she knows, hoping that I will return the favor. She's dying to find out why the police are investigating the visits of one of her people.

"Okay, now normally we're not supposed to reveal any information to strangers," Marge says. I nod to indicate I understand how professional she is. "But since you're the police ..." I keep on nodding. If this continues, I'll turn into one of those Japanese cats in store windows. "Well, last week, for the first time, Margaret got a visit from her granddaughter."

With a conspiratorial look, I lean over in her direction. "You don't say."

That's the only prompt she needs to continue.

"In December, it will be twenty years I've been working here and you know what?" This is a rhetorical question so I just tilt my head to invite her to answer. "Well, in all those years, Margaret had never mentioned she had a granddaughter."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah." It's Marge's turn to nod up and down. "Of course, if you knew her son you'd understand why she's real quiet about her family. Good thing we haven't seen him around here for a while."

A delivery truck pulls up behind me and this arrival kills the mood, and silences Marge.

I thank her and hand her my business card.

"If any one comes to visit her can you please give me a call?"

"Who should I keep an eye out for?" she asks. "Is it the girl? That would be a shame, but then again, you know what they say, the apples seldom fall far from the trees."

What should I answer to that? I need to give her something so that she will indeed call if Kristal ever shows up.

"Just between you and me, Marge," I whisper. "It's her son. He's in trouble again."

Standing a little taller as if my confiding in her had made her grow a few inches, Marge says, "Your secret's safe with me."

I give her a quick salute and turn to go.

Where to now?

The station, I guess.

Captain Stevens said I couldn't talk to Kristal's father but he never said I couldn't listen to what the man has to say.

* * *