Think Before You Speak (21 page)

Dozens of Victorian homes, their turreted
spires rising three stories in most cases, sat on two and three
acre lots surrounded by scrolling wrought iron fences. Gingerbread
practically dripped from wraparound porches that screamed for
Hansel and Gretel to come over and enjoy a bite – ‘cept in the one
I was looking for waited a wicked warlock instead of a witch.

A couple more corners and then I stopped
before a gate when the disembodied feminine voice explained I’d
reached my destination. The fence here appeared higher, poured
concrete with occasional wrought iron peek-a-boos for decoration
and a scroll along the top like ornamental barbed wire to satisfy
some sort of area building covenants.

Looked like a more decorative attempt at
those old concentration camp pictures from World War II to keep
prisoners in – but in this case I imagine it was more to keep
people out. From what I’ve heard, those homeowners associations
were like Nazis when it came to keeping to an authentic
neighborhood theme – in this case with all that wrought iron.

Janine spoke up, staring through the gates at
the monstrosity. “Are you sure this is it?”

“No,” was all I could think to say.

“Check the address again.”

“I’ve triple checked it, Janine. Quadruple
checked it.”

“But that house looks like someplace a sweet,
little, old grandmotherly lady would live.”

I nodded. “A
rich
, sweet, little, old
grandmotherly lady.”

“That’s a given,” she returned before
scrunching up her petite nose. “A gang leader lives
here
?”

“That’s what my source told me.”

Janine snickered. “Is that source the old
woman in a shoe who had so many kids she didn’t know what to
do?”

I sneered. “Ha, ha, no.”

About the time I considered turning the Vette
around and hightailing it out of there, the alarm I’d set on my
phone buzzed, signaling the moment of truth had arrived. I was now
officially late for this meeting. Maybe I could call the number
Ambassador Juarez had provided and explain the situation. But what
would a notorious gang leader do to a girl if she missed a meeting
entirely? The thought made me shudder.

The box at the gate squawked and brought back
that panty-piddling warmth. “Name and purpose?”

Nothing like getting to the point. I glanced
at Janine then rolled down the car window. “Vicki Bohanan to see
Swi…
Mr.
Ricardo.”

Silence. That didn’t bode well.

“Should you give them my name too?” Janine
asked.

“Yeah, that’d go over well,” I whispered.
“You might as well jump out of the car and tell them to hold you
for ransom.”

Holy… What had I done? Like a bolt of
lightning I realized how stupid I’d been to bring my best friend
with me. A blue-eyed, blond virgin? A De’Laruse no less? At the
home of a criminal? I may as well have found the nearest volcano
and thrown her in as a sacrifice to the gods.

I was just about to shift the Vette into
reverse and blow out of there when a mechanical hum arrested my
attention and the gates swung open. I listened for the rabid bark
of guard dogs, but heard nothing. Maybe this really wasn’t Switch’s
abode and was instead a lonely old man looking for a little
company. Someone like Derek Summers.

I should probably whip the car around and
make a run for the border.

But Mr. Summers reminded me of Lorraine and
what she might be doing to Reggie. So instead of running for the
border, I crept inside the compound and parked along the elliptical
drive near the front entrance, listening for dog barks, old men
snoring – and gunshots.

A man in a tailored black suit walked onto
the porch and hustled down the steps toward us. I shot a glance at
Janine and handed her the keys.

“Twenty minutes,” I said.

Janine nodded in silence.

I continued, “If I’m not back by then, or you
see anything suspicious during that time, you slam the car at full
speed through that gate and head straight to Zeke.”

“What if the gate’s closed?”

I took a deep breath and imagined my baby
launching against the wrought iron at Mach 1. Tears came to my eyes
as I pictured the crumpled accordion hood then reminded myself that
skin was more important than steel.

I think.

I took another deep breath and let it out
with a shudder. “Just hit it with both barrels and get out of
here.”

She winced then nodded again.

Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe I was a complete
idiot with a death wish – and I’d gone and gotten Janine
involved.

Black Suit beckoned me to exit the car by
tugging the door open. I stood to allow Janine to maneuver into the
driver’s seat then closed the door and turned to my escort.

Talk about your panty piddling. Someone get
me some clean underwear stat.

“Seth?” I squeaked.

Hard dark eyes addressed me before the hiss
of Radioman’s lawyer friend broke through the shock. “Keep your
voice down.”

“This is the entertainment you left the bar
for?” I asked.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” Seth
whispered. “Play along like we don’t know each other, okay?”

“Not what it looks like?” I whispered, my
tongue stumbling over my lips.

“I’ll explain later.” He held out his hand
for my purse.

My brain glazed over like a donut. That’d be
good right about now ‘cause I could use something sweet to
counteract the sour that flooded my stomach.

“Please,” he said as another tall, dark, and
scary man stepped from the house and followed the same path Seth
had – ‘cept at a slower gait. “For both our sakes, act like we’ve
never met.”

Never met? Not what it looked like? And Grady
had been worried about my association with Banker Boy. Oh, we were
so going to have a conversation later – and this time I’d be happy
to include Grady in it. For now, I plastered on a mask to hide not
only my association with Seth but to cover up the questions of what
I’d
really
stumbled into here. I wondered again if I’d
gotten the address written down wrong.

I realized I’d written down the address
correctly when the second, older
gentleman
patted me down
and emptied my purse across the car hood, waving a metal wand
across the contents before stuffing most of it back inside and
handing it to me, sans the phone and pepper spray. I handed them
over to Janine and offered an encouraging smile that probably
looked more like I wanted to hurl.

Satisfied, Mr. Tall Dark and Scary offered
his arm like a proper escort. “Were you not instructed to come
alone?” he asked.

My throat tightened and a single word came
out more like the croak of a choking frog. “No.”

“Your friend will stay in the car then,
understood?”

I didn’t trust my voice to tell him that was
my plan too, so I nodded instead.

Tall Dark and Scary addressed Seth with a
finger pointed toward Janine. “Watch her.”

“Yes, sir,” Seth responded.

I shot Seth a scowl to wither his genitals
and send home a message – something along the lines of
there’s a
castration in your future if something happens to my
bestie
.

Mr. TD & S tugged me toward the house.
“You will address my employer at all times as Mr. Ricardo,” he
stated.

I still didn’t trust my voice so nodded
compliance again.

“You are here as a guest and will only go
where I escort you.”

“K,” I squeaked.

The stairs were more stable than I was as we
stumbled up onto the porch. Sometimes I wished I’d paid more
attention during those cotillion classes growing up. I needed to
project a confident assurance I didn’t feel, not trip along like I
was on this side of a drunken stupor.

“As a guest, you will be under the full
protection of my employer while on the premises, Miss Bohanan.”

“Understood.” My voice came out stronger this
time. “My friend?”

“Will receive the same protection,” he
replied. “However, you will speak to no one about the contents of
this meeting. Not even to your friend there.”

“Got it.”

A calculated look ricocheted over me before
Tall Dark and Scary opened the front door. “Once you leave these
premises, this agreement and all codicils are null and void.”

Codicils? Null and void? I found my voice.
“Who are you? Switch’s lawyer?”

“Mr. Ricardo,” he emphasized.

My knees started knocking all over again at
the glint in Tall Dark and Scary’s eyes. I prayed my mention of
lawyers hadn’t just given away my association with Seth. Right
about now it would behoove me to practice a little self-control as
Rochelle and I had discussed mere hours ago – this time over my
disease-ridden mouth.

‘Cause it wasn’t just my life on the line
here – no matter what the guy attached to my arm said. Lawyers were
good at twisting words. Sometimes they could be downright slimy –
evidenced by the guy standing by my car.

I was starting to have second thoughts about
my date with Radioman.

The door swung open to reveal a staircase
straight out of one of Janine’s romance movies. Scarlett O’Hara
wouldn’t dare sniff at that winding mass of mahogany trailing up to
the next floor. For the second time that night, I felt as if I’d
taken a trip into another dimension – but instead I stood in the
foyer of a gang leader’s home.

“This way,” Mr. TD & S directed up the
stairs.

I heard every squeak of the wood. Felt every
slight shift as I placed my feet upon each tread. If not for the
live bodies standing guard nearby, I’d have sworn the house was
haunted.

Or maybe it was all in my overwrought and
scaredy cat mind – ya think?

After the boneheaded traipse through gang
territory the other night, I shuddered to think what Zeke would do
to me if he found out where I was right at that moment. I could
almost hear him now –
What’s the matter with you? What’s with
the death wish? Why’d you drag Janine into it this time? Are you
dumb or just stupid?
That last one really got my dander up. Me
stupid? How dare he.

When I walked into the darkened study, I
began to think maybe Zeke was right. What name did Ambassador
Juarez say to use? Bernard? Barry? No, Benny. Yeah, Benny was the
one responsible for getting me into this.

Well technically Reggie, but I didn’t want to
take time right then to mince words – er, thoughts.

The scent of cigars and leather permeated the
air and sent my thoughts on a quick memory lane jaunt with Janine
and her Louisiana-based grandfather. That man had loved only two
things in life – his wife and some of the most expensive cigars on
the planet. I still wasn’t sure which killed him in the end.

A desk lamp provided the only light in the
room and cast shadows as the hulking man rose from behind the
gigantic carved block of wood. Even with the clipped crop of silver
hair, I entertained no doubt he could pick up the desk and toss it
at me with a spiral guaranteed to make a pro quarterback
jealous.

When he brought his hand up, I expected I had
less than five seconds to state my case before the report of a
gunshot silenced me forever. Maybe that was why the carpet was red.
Better to conceal blood residue. Instead there was a snap of
fingers and illumination of the room before Tall Dark and Scary
left with a click of the door loud enough to make an elephant
jump.

Beady eyes stared from a face carved of
stone. A few deep pockmarks from a bad case of pubescent acne
marred it – at least that’s what I hoped it was. But the scar
trailing from the corner of his eye, across the cheek and to his
jaw bespoke a life I’d once thought of when faced with
Jimmy-the-Super. ‘Cept in this case, I don’t think a medical
condition or military service would explain it.

“Miss Bohanan, welcome.” The deep and
gravelly voice reverberated through me like a command. “Please be
seated. Drink?”

Mr. Ricardo indicated a chair before stepping
from behind the desk to a wet bar inset into the mahogany paneling.
I was so ready to drink a little – or a lot – of everything I saw
in the decanters to calm my nerves.

Instead I politely deferred. “N-no, thank
you.”

Noodley legs would’ve sat me down right where
I stood, but I managed to wait until the wingback chair was behind
me before I collapsed in a whoosh. In my life, I’d been in the
presence of some pretty influential figures – none of them more
fear-inspiring than the massive man daintily pouring himself a
drink. With difficulty, I managed to dredge from the depths some of
the manners Mom had tried to teach me when facing powerful heads of
state.

“Th-thank you for seeing me, Sw…Mr. Ricardo,”
I stammered.

He sat in a matching chair opposite and
reached into a humidor on the end table. “It’s not every day the
only daughter of one of Dallas’ wealthiest oil men asks for a
meeting with a lowly goods distributor.”

Lowly? Goods distributor? The man had given
himself a promotion from gang leader to drug runner to
goods
distributor. From the look of his palatial home, the guy had done
his work well. He’d also done his homework well – on me.

With Seth standing guard over Janine outside,
and Ricardo well-versed in who I was, I surmised we’d mistakenly
walked into a more dangerous situation than my traipse into gang
territory – and this without any weapons on display. In this case,
it was very possible Ricardo planned to kidnap me and hold me for
ransom. Or sell me to some Saudi prince as part of his harem,
though I don’t know how valuable a slightly used woman would be to
such a man.

Okay, okay. A little more than
slightly
used. I kept information about the virgin in his
driveway to myself. No need to tempt fate.

Mr. Tall Dark and Scary had escorted me into
the house with all that legal mumbo jumbo about contracts and
codicils. Since I’d walked into the place of my own freewill, this
was no kidnapping, but we’d have to classify anything past twenty
minutes as unlawful detainment. Time to approach this predicament –
Vicki style.