The Reunion Mission (36 page)

“Perhaps we should ask your girlfriend the same questions. What do you suppose she’d have to say?” Farrout asked, his tone gloating.

Jonah squeezed his fingers into a fist and growled, “Leave her out of this.”

“Oh, but she is a part of it, isn’t she? She was Hardin’s courier the night a small fortune went missing, and she was with you at the bus depot and later at the police department. I caught her snooping in my office the other day, too. Start talking, Devereaux. What’s your game? What are you after?”

“I just want the money I won on the basketball tourney. I put ten grand on UNC.”

Farrout frowned and tipped his head. “I don’t recall any wager like that on UNC. Pulliam, you remember Devereaux placing any bets?”

“Nope.”

Jonah struggled to cool the fury rising in him. He glanced over to Pulliam, who had pulled Annie’s arms behind her back. A chill washed through Jonah.

Dear God, don’t let them hurt Annie.

Jonah weighed his options and made his decision. “You let Annie walk out of here, and we’ll talk.” He leaned forward, nailing Farrout with his glare. “We’ll talk about how you killed Michael Hamrick.”

“Word I heard was Hamrick offed himself.” Farrout’s negligent shrug, as if Michael’s death meant nothing, fanned Jonah’s rage. “Anyway, I had nothing to do with his death.”

“You had everything to do with it. You cheated him out of his retirement savings just like you’re trying to cheat me now. You destroyed his life.”

“I didn’t make him place his bets. He was an addict. He lost his money all on his own. I’m just a businessman, all too happy to make a profit wherever I can.”

Jonah forcibly swallowed the bitter reply on his tongue, fought the urge trembling in his arms to smash Farrout’s face. He couldn’t, wouldn’t give Farrout the power to make him lose control. He wasn’t his father, and he would never let his life go down the violent path his father took.

He glanced again to Annie, whose dark eyes were wide with fear. “Tell your goon to take his grubby hands off Annie,” he grated. “Now.”

“Give me Hardin’s files and whatever else your girlfriend stole from my office,” Farrout countered. The man’s eyes were flinty, emotionless.

Jonah didn’t like the imbalance in this standoff. Farrout held all the cards, and Jonah had everything at stake. Because Pulliam had Annie. The woman he loved.

And that gave his enemy the upper hand.

* * *

Annie’s heart knocked wildly in her chest. She was a liability to Jonah.

Every time Jonah glanced her way, she became more certain. As long as he was distracted by what Pulliam might do to her, Jonah was working from a disadvantage. She had to do something to even the odds. Stall for time.

When Pulliam grabbed her, she’d watched from the corner of her eye as Susan sidled into the kitchen. Surely Susan or the fry cook, Daniel, had called the police by now.

Annie clung to the hope that the cavalry was on the way. Her breath hung in her throat, knowing instinctively that her life was at a pivotal point, a defining moment. What direction fate took her depended largely on her response to the crisis, the choices she would make. She refused to wait helplessly for rescue, refused to be the victim of another man’s abuse. In order to help Jonah, she had to help herself.

Mentally, she reviewed what she’d learned at the self-defense class, the things Jonah had coached her on. While a plan of attack coalesced in her mind, she followed the tense confrontation between Farrout and Jonah.

“What makes you think I have anything of Hardin’s?” Jonah said. His body language said he’d gladly leap over the table and rip Farrout’s larynx out at the slightest provocation. That he hadn’t throttled Farrout at his first chance spoke volumes to Annie about Jonah’s control over his emotions, his restraint with the sparring skills he knew so well. Admiration swelled in her chest.

“Because I don’t believe in coincidence. You showed up in the Fourth Street alley just after Hardin’s delivery got nabbed. Your girlfriend was Hardin’s courier, and she was snooping in my office the day the diner reopened.” Farrout’s glare narrowed on Jonah. “And my man saw you take a gym bag into the bus depot to a locker we saw Hardin use a week earlier. Given all that, what would you think?”

Annie swallowed hard. Farrout had them cornered. She’d seen enough nature shows to know what even the weakest animals did when cornered. They fought.

Annie took a deep breath, sent up a silent prayer...and fought back.

With all the force she could muster, she slammed her head into Pulliam’s nose.

The thin man wailed in pain and released her wrist to cradle his face.

Hand freed, Annie grabbed a metal water pitcher from the counter. Twisted. Swung it in a powerful arc toward Pulliam’s head.

“Damn bitch! You broke my—”

The pitcher smashed into the man’s head with a resounding thunk. He wobbled, eyes rolling back, then crumpled onto the floor.

The scuffle of feet behind her yanked her attention to Farrout. The rotund man lurched to his feet. With his black gaze locked on her, he reached inside his jacket.

Jonah sprang a millisecond behind Farrout, tackling the giant man as he drew his weapon. He kicked Farrout’s feet out from under him with a sweep of his leg and pinned him to the floor.

Farrout’s gun fired, the blast deafening.

Annie gasped and stumbled back.

In a seamless move, Jonah reached for his ankle and came up with a small gun of his own. He jammed the gun against Farrout’s head and grated, “Drop your weapon!”

Farrout struggled, cursing and bucking. Jonah jerked Farrout’s arm into a painful-looking, unnatural angle. “Drop it, or I’ll break your arm.”

Growling an obscenity, Farrout let his gun clatter to the floor. Quickly, Jonah stuck his own gun into the waist of his jeans and palmed Farrout’s larger gun.

Annie froze, stunned at what she’d just witnessed. But Jonah had served for many years with the police. Of course he knew how to subdue a man twice his size.

Jonah dug plastic bindings from his pocket and secured Farrout’s hands behind his back. Bound his feet. Then shackled him to the leg of the nearest table with handcuffs.

Farrout continued to spout filth, and Jonah grabbed his throat in a hard pinch at his carotid artery. In a moment, Farrout passed out.

Jonah looked up at her. “Don’t worry, he’s not dead. He’ll revive in a few minutes.”

Annie released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Could it really be over? Relief swept through her, welling tears in her eyes and making her knees tremble.

Swiping perspiration from his forehead, Jonah asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, a smile blossoming on her lips. But Jonah’s gaze shifted to something behind her and hardened.

Spinning around, Annie found Susan behind her. The waitress’s mouth was pressed in a grim line. Her glare was icy.

And she aimed a gun at Annie’s heart. “Not so fast, sweet cakes. We have unsettled business, and the boss is on his way.”

Chapter 19

W
hen he saw the revolver pointed at Annie, Jonah’s gut roiled. He shoved away from Farrout’s inert form and, rising to his knees, he swung Farrout’s 9 mm toward Susan.

Annie had mentioned her concern that Susan had known things Annie hadn’t told her. He’d downplayed the significance, discounted the importance of Susan’s comments.

He’d screwed up. Failed Annie.

Acid guilt gnawed inside him, rebuking him.

“Lower your gun, Susan,” he commanded, his tone firm but calm. “No one else has to get hurt. Just put it on the floor and step back.”

Susan’s answering laugh had a bitter edge. She stepped closer to Annie. “You wish.”

Jonah’s hands sweated, but he kept a firm grip on the 9 mm
he had aimed at Susan.

Annie backed away from Susan until her back came up against the wall. “Daniel!” she yelled. “Call 911!”

Susan lurched forward, grabbed Annie’s arm. “Sorry, honey. Daniel left twenty minutes ago. Pulliam sent him home when he and Farrout arrived.”

While Susan’s attention was shifted to Annie, Jonah pushed smoothly to his feet.

Susan jerked her head back toward Jonah and poked her revolver behind Annie’s ear. She tightened her grip on Annie’s arm, and Annie winced. “Stop right there, Jonah. I don’t want to hurt her, but I will.”

Annie grew still, her eyes pleading with him.
Now what do I do?
her gaze asked.

Jonah dug deep for the professional detachment he needed. He had to treat this situation like any other he’d encountered on the force. Let training take over. Keep his emotions out of it.

But he’d never been in a standoff with the woman he loved caught in the crosshairs. How could he live with himself if anything happened to Annie? What would he do without her in his life?

A ball of cold realization settled in his gut. By ending their relationship and walking away, he’d already cut her out of his life. Because he feared the unknown. Because he couldn’t bear to revive memories of his childhood. Because he was a coward.

Yet Annie had found enough courage to face her past, her demons, her fears. Enough to leave her abusive husband. Enough to give a future with him a chance. Enough to help him stop Farrout and his men.

Because she loved her children. Because she loved him.

Jonah’s heart constricted. Annie had trumped fear...with love.

If he loved Annie, how could he do any less?

He ground his teeth together, battled down the doubts and questions jabbing him. He had to focus on freeing Annie. If he could keep Susan occupied, distracted, he had a chance. If his plan was falling in place as arranged, backup was coming. He just had to buy a little time.

* * *

“What are you doing, Susan? Why are you involved in this?” Jonah asked.

Annie chewed her bottom lip, tried not to think about the muzzle jabbing her skull. Her children needed her. She couldn’t die here. Wouldn’t leave her babies without a mother. She might not know how to get out of this macabre turn of events, but she had faith in Jonah. She trusted him with her life. And if she found an opportunity to help the situation, she’d act.

Susan snorted in answer to Jonah’s query. “I’m not stupid. I know easy money when I see it. Why wouldn’t I want my cut? Besides, you could say it’s my family legacy.”

Jonah furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

Susan shrugged, and the gun poked Annie harder. “My father runs the operation. He let me in on the action. Working at his diner is just my cover, so I can keep an eye on the people who work for him.”

“Your father is the Pop of Pop’s Diner?” Jonah’s tone was calm, conversational. But Annie saw the cunning and purpose that blazed in his eyes.

“That’s right. Pop himself. I’m the one who found out what Hardin was up to.” Susan gave a smug-sounding chuckle. “I knew Hardin had been in trouble with the cops recently for some drug violation. When those charges went away a little too easily, I got curious. And Hardin started acting funny.”

“Define funny,” Jonah said, his weapon never wavering.

Annie watched him, amazed by his cool confidence, waiting for some clue from him as to what he needed her to do.

Susan grunted. “Hardin started acting nervous and looking crappier every day. Like he wasn’t sleeping. Like the stress was eating his lunch.

“I warned Pop something could be up, and Pop had someone follow him. Pop’s guys saw Hardin take a bunch of files from the diner to the bus depot. Then a little eavesdropping gave me enough information to help arrange someone to intercept the transfer of cash and gambling records to his police contact. We had all the proof we needed to justify eliminating Hardin. He’d become a liability.”

Annie tensed. “Y-you killed Hardin?”

Susan scoffed. “Hell, no. Not me. Pop has men on his payroll to do that.”

“Farrout and Pulliam.” Jonah nodded to the men unconscious on the floor.

“Maybe. Or the guy who jumped Annie in the alley. Maybe someone else. I don’t know who. Don’t care.”

Annie felt Susan shift her weight, draw her body up and press the gun harder against her head. She blew out a frustrated huff.

“Damn it, enough talking. I didn’t mean to say that much. Now...put your gun down, Jonah, or I’ll...I’ll hurt Annie.”

Jonah’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly when Susan hesitated. Annie could swear she saw the wheels in Jonah’s brain turning.

Rather than lower his gun, Jonah curled his finger around the trigger. “You don’t want to hurt Annie, Susan. She’s your friend. She’s a mother. She’s not involved in my investigation.” He paused, narrowing his eyes again. “On the other hand, I have no qualms about shooting a woman.”

His penetrating gaze met Annie’s eyes then and held. Drilled her with their bright intensity. A chill crawled down Annie’s spine, certain he was trying to tell her something.

Still holding her gaze, Jonah said calmly, “If you hurt Annie, I won’t hesitate to
drop
you in the
blink
of an eye.”

His gaze clung to hers another heartbeat, before he shifted his lethal stare back to Susan. His unflinching green eyes blazed with intent.

Then he blinked.

Annie dropped like a rag doll.

A single blast shook the room, and Susan screamed.

From the floor, Annie glanced back to see Susan clutch her shoulder, drop her gun and slide down the counter to the floor.

“You bastard!” a male voice growled. “What have you done to my daughter?”

A familiar-looking, silver-haired man stood in the door to the kitchen.

Pop had arrived.

* * *

Jonah re-aimed the gun toward the new arrival.

And his pulse kicked when recognition dawned. “Frank?”

The gym owner snatched up the gun Susan had dropped and swung it toward Jonah. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am to see you here, Devereaux. You’re one of my best sparring partners. I hate having to kill you. You’re gonna be missed at the gym.”

“
You
own the diner?
You’re
behind the gambling and money laundering?” Jonah heard the disbelief in his voice and shook off the lingering shock to focus on the problem at hand. Namely, the gun in Frank’s grip.

Jonah cut a quick glance to Annie. She’d grabbed a clean towel and pressed it to the wound on Susan’s shoulder. Ever the caregiver. Even though her patient had just held a gun to her head.

Frank strolled closer to Jonah. “Folks were all the time wagering on sports at my gym. I saw a way to make a profit and took it. I’d bought the diner years back, and it proved the simplest way to clean the money, filter it into special accounts. But as an operation like mine grows, problems come up. People you thought you could trust turn on you to save their own skin.”

“Hardin?”

Frank jerked a nod. “Good riddance. The man had proved unreliable at best. He got greedy. Got careless. I should have taken him out years ago.”

Jonah drew a slow breath for composure. “And Michael Hamrick? You fleeced him. Before he died, he told me the operation he’d gotten tangled up with had welched on paying him what he was owed on winning bets. That you duped him into investing his life savings on high-stakes games.”

“No one held a gun to his head, if that’s what you mean.” Frank smirked. “He took care of that himself.”

White-hot rage exploded in Jonah. Ducking his head, he charged at Frank. “You son of a bitch!”

“Jonah, no!” Annie launched from the floor, threw herself at Frank.

Grabbed for Frank’s gun.

A flash. An earsplitting blast. A gut-wrenching cry.

With a gasp, Annie collapsed against Jonah, the front of her apron marred by a bright red stain.

“Annie!” Jonah sank with her to the floor, horror ripping through his chest.

Frank reangled his weapon.

Glass shattered. Men in uniform breached the front door. Guns at the ready, Lagniappe’s finest swarmed the diner.

“Freeze! Police! Lower your weapon and lie facedown with your hands out!”

As the police filed in, Frank sighed defeat, set his gun on the floor and lay down spread-eagle as ordered.

Jonah shot an angry look at the man leading the charge.
Joseph Nance.
“About damn time! Annie’s been shot! Get an ambulance
now!
”