Hound Dog Blues (27 page)

Instead, blue lights flashed.
Cops. Oh shit.
A whoop-whoop accompanied the lights. A voice boomed from the unmarked cruiser’s speaker.

“This is Officer Delisi. Stay where you are.”

Fat chance, Delisi
. All she needed was for Archie to pass by and see the cops.

She bumped over chewed concrete onto the interstate and got off at the next exit, hung a left on White Station and found the Cloverleaf Shopping Center and the pay phone. It was ringing when she stopped her bike, and she grabbed the receiver.

She jerked it from the hook, saying before he could get in his list of demands, “I want proof you’ve got Cami or this ends right here.”

“Look, bitch, you’re not in any position to make deals.”

“That right? I thought you
had
to have the necklace today.” That stopped him cold. There was silence for a long beat. She gripped the phone tightly, not sure if it was rain or sweat making it so slick.

“Damn pain in the ass,” he said after a minute, “hold on.”

Harley listened to muffled sounds like an engine running, and then Cami came on the line. She sounded scared.

“H-H-Harley?”

“Cami, are you all right?”

“I’m-m okay.”

“Listen, I’ll get you away from that jerk as soon as I can, just hold on, okay? Are you close to Summer Avenue?”

Cami made a squeaking sound, and then the nephew came back on the line. “She ain’t gonna answer no questions, cupcake. Bring the necklace and you can take your friend home. Show up without it, you’re both dead.”

“When and where?”

“One hour. Take Jackson to Warford. There’s an industrial park. Stop at the entrance and walk past the empty guard shack. Go down that first road and wait. I’ll find you. And remember what I said. No cops. I’m watching.”

Right. She called Bobby as soon as she hung up, but he didn’t answer his cell phone so she left another message. She thought about calling Morgan but after seeing him with Bates, she still wasn’t sure she could trust him. Maybe she shouldn’t have blown off Delisi. It was hard to know what to do. Archie could still be watching her. No telling what he’d do if blue lights showed up.

Play it by ear, she decided. A convenience store was on the next corner, and she went for coffee and a pit stop. Then she got on the interstate and took the Jackson exit, getting off to head southwest. This was an industrial area, with a Sears warehouse and the Quaker Oats company near a snarl of railroad tracks. Plough, Incorporated lay to her right. Several years ago Yogi and Diva had led a demonstration against animal testing and been arrested in front of Plough. Apparently, the company had no tolerance for that sort of thing, and neither did the MPD.

Warehouses clumped together. She turned off at the Velsico Chemical plant. Another line of warehouses stretched near railroad tracks that stitched weeds and asphalt together in a quilt of debris and barren ground. Huge metal buildings studded both sides of the wide street. Semis hooked to trailers waited in front of closed cargo doors.

Faded paint marked parking spots, and vapor lights shed fuzzy haloes. An air of desolation and eerie emptiness hung in the air. An industrial park was a spooky place at night. The chemical plant smudged the already leaden sky with smoke from tall stacks. Wide strips of asphalt ran between lines of metal buildings. Debris littered chain link fences and parking lots—broken beer bottles, old tires, assorted trash. An empty guard shack stood silent sentry beyond a locked gate. A gust of wind rattled the heavy chain looped through wire. How was she supposed to get in?

She shivered. The rain had cooled everything off. Puddles reflected broken pools of light. The air was wet enough to wash her face in, dripping humidity. She killed the engine on her bike and sat immobile for a moment. Every minute she wasted could mean trouble for Cami. She had to do something, even if it wasn’t top choice. Maybe she should call 911. She opened her backpack. It smelled like barbecue. Probably all over the bottom by now. Damn. She got out her cell phone. Holding it in one hand and the can of Mace in her other, she shouldered her backpack. All she had to do was hit the #3 button on her phone to dial it. Once she had Cami in sight, the cops could be here within minutes. Delisi was probably still in the area, circling like a vulture looking for her.

It’d be risky to leave the bike in plain sight, so she pushed it between a waist high patch of weeds and the fence and hoped it’d still be there when she got back. This wasn’t the best area but it’d be a bigger risk to take the spark plug when they might need to leave in a hurry. She left her helmet strapped to the back.

The gate presented an immediate problem. A narrow gap lay between the bars, the chain loose enough she could barely squeeze through. She sucked in her stomach and willed her butt muscles to shrink, and she finally wedged herself through to the other side. One more bag of Reese’s and she’d have to stand out here and yell. Maybe she’d take up jogging when this was all over. Maybe not. Gain hardly seemed worth pain.

Her hair hung damply in her eyes. She felt like a wet sheepdog. The wind didn’t help. It cut easily through Cami’s loose sweater and her cotton tee shirt. She splashed through a puddle, steps echoing eerily, and turned down the first road.

No vehicles were visible. Asphalt stretched empty and narrow between a line of high metal buildings like warehouses. She had cotton-mouth and her palms were sweaty. Not a good trade-off. This could be just a colossal joke, if it weren’t for the fact Cami had sounded terrified. Would Archie go to all this trouble if he wasn’t serious?

She walked all the way to the end, but there was no sign of anyone. She moved to stand by a cargo door, whistling softly to keep up her spirits. And courage. This was really spooky. It grated on her nerves, made her jumpy. Time dragged. She shifted from foot to foot.

“I
do
believe in spooks, I
do
believe in spooks,” she muttered in her best Cowardly Lion imitation. All she needed were flying monkeys.

“Hey, dumbass,” someone said behind her, and she whirled around with the can of Mace, “you came in the wrong way.”

Flying monkey, right on cue. Shoulders hunched, a thin, wiry man in a dark slicker stood just a few feet away. Shadows kept her from seeing his face but she knew the voice, recognized that raspy tone. Archie, the infamous nephew. He was alone. So where was Cami?

“You gave me shitty directions,” she said, giving the Mace a brisk shake. Just in case.

“You were supposed to come in off Warford. I been waiting fifteen minutes at the other end before I figured out most women don’t know direction from shit. Toss me that pepper spray or you won’t never see your buddy again. Don’t try to dick me around, girl. I’m in no mood. Did you bring the necklace?”

“I told you I would.” If she Maced him, it’d buy enough time to call in the cops and they could find Cami. She had to be close by in one of these buildings. She shifted to watch Archie. He looked nervous, eyes darting back and forth from her to the end of the road.

“Yeah, I know what you
told
me. That ain’t what I asked.”

He took a step closer. Rain slicked his face, pooled around his shoes. She should’ve pulled the stun gun out too. Wonder what it’d do if she zapped him? Probably fry him like an egg. That wasn’t completely undesirable. She narrowed her eyes.

“Before I say anything about the necklace, I want to see Cami. You better not have hurt her, you little weasel.”

He acted insulted. “I keep my word. You better do the same.”

She had no idea what she’d do once she saw Cami, or how she’d explain the fact she’d lied like a rug about having the necklace. This would be another one of those things she’d just ride out. Stalling for time seemed the best option for now.

“Now gimme that spray,” he said, and held out his hand, “or we ain’t goin’ nowhere. I don’t need some dumb broad gettin’ all excited and juicin’ me up with that shit.”

There didn’t seem to be a way out of that, but she still had her stun gun. She gave him the spray only when he started getting even more jumpy, then said, “I’m not a broad.”

“Right. Turn around.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Look, turn around and walk, cookie. Or I’ll give you some help.”

“I’ve already got enough motivation, thanks.”

She wondered just how Yogi had gotten mixed up with this guy, but it didn’t seem like the time to ask. She turned around, but only halfway, keeping an eye on him when he gave her a push forward. She unzipped her backpack and felt inside for the stun gun. He stayed close behind.

“Why do I smell barbecue? What’s in your other hand, cupcake?”

“Have you got a food fixation? I’m not your cookie or your cupcake. My name is Harley. I really hope this is the way to where Cami is, because I’m not having a good time.”

“Like I give a damn.”

He reached out to grab her arm and she lurched away, thumbing the button of her phone to dial 911. Archie slammed into her, catching her by surprise, and the cell went flying through the air to land in a puddle. It didn’t go
splash
so much as
crack!
Oh shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” she yelled, and gave him a shove back. He was a wiry little thing, and he smelled like sweat and strong after-shave. It was not a good combination.

Archie erupted in a real hissy fit. Screaming that he’d had enough of her shit and he wasn’t going to take more of this damned crap, he slugged her. It came so quickly she couldn’t avoid it completely. His fist caught her on the side of the jaw. Stars exploded, bells rang, and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

It was dark and she was wet and cold. Shivering, Harley tried to sit up. For some reason, her arms and legs didn’t work properly. It hurt to even blink. A glass jaw. She’d never make it in a boxing ring. Not that she was tempted. Pain had never been something she ignored.

She wanted to rub her jaw but couldn’t lift her hand. It took a few beats to figure out that the reason for that seemed to involve rope. Her arms and legs were tied at wrists and ankles. She was curled into a fetal position, her knees close to her chest. Archie seemed to be adept with this kind of thing. That didn’t bode well.

It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. She was on the floor in some kind of office, judging by the metal desk and chairs. A low hum vibrated. Except for that, it was quiet. No sign of Archie, and worse—no sign of Cami. If she wasn’t so damned uncomfortable and worried about Cami, she’d probably be scared shitless.

As it was, growing anger thawed her out enough that her brain started working again. It was stupid and infuriating that a guy too damn lazy to work had endangered her parents, her best friend, and now her. Enough was enough.

She worked herself around until she could sit up. A window in the closed door let in a bit of light from dropped ceiling fixtures high overhead in what looked to be a warehouse. NuVo Rich, no doubt. Archie and Bates. An unholy team. The brother figured in this as well. He had to. Bates had been at Jernigan’s Jewelers, and Archie’s brother Neil worked there as an appraiser. What was still uncertain was how Yogi was connected. There was no doubt of his involvement. If he wasn’t, Archie would never have hidden that necklace in his workshop and risked Yogi finding it.

What really frightened her was just how deeply Yogi might be involved. It was scary to think he might be in some kind of business with Archie and Bates. How did this warehouse tie in with Archie having a valuable necklace? And why would he hide it anyway, especially in Yogi’s workshop? It didn’t make sense. Unless the real Bruno Jett—or Morgan—were involved.