The Ties That Bind (Sarah Woods Mystery Book 11) (6 page)

Chapter 12

 

 

It was almost 8:00 pm by the time we got back to Buster’s Comic Store. We parked in the same spot across the street to observe, noting the three cars in the parking lot.

“The hair salon is closed,” Carter said. “Along with the diner. So the two cars other than the Honda must be customers inside Buster’s. Maybe there’s a private party going on.” He peered through the binoculars and made a grunting sound. “Can’t see inside with the windows shrouded in comic book covers.”

“Let’s go knock on the door,” I suggested. “And ask them if we can join the party.”

He gave me a sideward glance. “I was thinking we could write down all the license plate numbers to find out who these people are. Might be a little safer than confronting them. At least until we find out what kind of activity is going on here.”

“Do you really think our time is best served doing this? I mean, we have no reason to believe that Reggie or Rory was involved in any secret meetings here after hours.”

“We have no reason not to believe it, either. Somehow, we need to find out if Perry has any connections here.”

I paused to consider something else. “That story Perry told us about his so-called friend and the woman he wants to get away from, maybe Perry is talking about himself and his mother.”

Carter turned and blinked at me. “I agree.”

“Maybe Perry had been planning to leave the family business when Nina came along and messed up everything. If he married her and has a child, he knew he’d never be able to leave, so he paid the brothers with the cash that he’s been stealing from the bar. Who knows, Perry could have saved thousands of dollars over the past few years by pocketing twenty bucks here and there.”

“Assuming he did it, I’d love to know how much he gave those boys and where that money is right now.”

“Here’s an even better question,” I said. “Why didn’t they just tell the police that Perry hired them to do it? Why would they feel compelled to protect him?”

Movement from across the street got our attention as someone came out of Buster’s. The faint glow of the inside light cast a shadow over the person and we could see that it was an overweight man in his late fifties. At first I thought it was Frank Perez, the boys’ father, but Frank was much larger than this person coming out of the store.

“Do you have your camera ready?” Carter asked.

“I’m on it.” I clicked off a dozen shots as the man meandered over to the blue pick-up truck parked in the lot. Once he got behind the wheel, he sat there for a good minute before starting the engine. “Looks like a work truck. Larry’s Heating and Plumbing. There’s a number painted on the side of his truck. I’ll be able to zoom in on the photo to get a clear picture of the number.”

“Good job.” Carter watched closely as the man finally drove away in his truck. “Shouldn’t be too difficult to get his name.”

After another few minutes went by, the front door opened again. This time two more guys came out, talking in loud voices, although I couldn’t discern the words. I was too busy taking photos to concentrate on what they were saying. Each got into his ownvehicl
e—
a dark colored Ford and a white Suburba
n—
and drove off.

“Looks like the party is over,” I said. “I wonder if Jason is staying the night.”

Carter rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Well, shall we go talk to him again?”

I looked out the window, observing how dark and creepy the street looked without any lights. Clouds obscured the moon, giving it a pale yellow glow, like something out of a Halloween scene. “The girl who cut my hair today advised me not to go walking around this side of town after dark. I tend to agree with her.”

He caressed my hand and bit back a smile. “You seem a little jumpy.”

“Did you bring your gun?”

“Of course.” He grabbed the duffel bag from the back seat. “I always have it close by.”

“How long are we going to wait here?”

Carter reached in for the gun and tucked it into his jeans. “Wait here and lock the doors.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna try and get a better look inside. There must be a back door.”

Carter opened the driver’s side door and got out, moving toward the alley. Staying inside the car, I searched the area with the binoculars, keeping an eye on Carter until he disappeared behind the building.

I set the binoculars on the console and scanned through the pictures I’d taken of the men who’d left earlier. If we were able to contact these men, maybe they’d give us the skinny on Jason’s after hours’ activities.

When the driver’s side door opened, I sighed with relief. “Thank God you’re back,” I said. “Did you see Jason?”

But when I realized the person getting in the car was not Carter, I froze momentarily.

It was Jason and I became distinctly aware of the gun pointed at my knee. His head was shaking with admonishment, as if he were about to scold me like a teacher. “You and your gentleman friend have become a real pain in my ass, you know that?”

I couldn’t believe I had forgotten to lock the doors. Idiot.

“Did you hear what I said?” Jason thrust the barrel of the gun into the flesh of my leg.

I have no idea what a bullet to the knee would feel like, but I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be pleasant. I decided to choose my words very carefully. “What did you do to Carter?”

Jason gestured with the gun toward the alley. “He’s taking a little nap behind the dumpster. He might have a headache in the morning, but he’ll be fine.”

“What do you want?”

He grinned. “First of all, I’ll be taking your camera.”

I handed it over without delay.

He chuckled. “You guys seem like decent people so I don’t want to hurt you but this is your final warning. Stop asking questions about that dead girl.”

“Nina Chapman?”

The mention of her name created a spark his eyes, almost like he was turned on. “If I find out you’re asking any more questions, I will find you and then I will put a bullet in your knee. You don’t want to limp for the rest of your life, do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good. Then let it go.”

I decided it would be very smart to tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. “Okay. We’ll let it go.”

 

Jason wiped his nose and opened the door, gun clenched in one hand, my camera in the other. For a moment I thought maybe I could grab the gun out of his hand, but I decided that could end very badly. He slid out into the night leaving behind the faint scent of alcohol and cigarettes.

I took a few seconds to calm my nerves with a few deep breaths. My palms were sweating and I wiped them on my jeans. I grabbed my purse and the car keys and went to look for Carter.

Chapter 13

 

As I approached the alley I heard the faint sound of someone grumbling under his breath. When I rounded the building and saw him sitting on the ground with his hand on the back of his head I nearly cried with joy.

I ran over and knelt down beside him. A gash across his forehead was oozing blood. I found a napkin in my purse and dabbed at it. “Shit. Are you okay?”

He looked up at me, squinting in pain. “Sarah, did anyone hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine. What did he hit you with?”

“I have no idea. I was hit from behind and never saw who it was.”

“It was Jason, warning us to mind our own business.”

“Unbelievable.” Carter tried getting to his feet but I had to help him. “He hit me with something hard in the back of my head. I must have fallen forward and got the gash on my face.”

“He ambushed you,” I said. “He probably knew we were parked across the street the whole time. Anyway, he took our camera.”

 

When we’d safely returned to the Buick, I insisted on driving back to the Inn. I got behind the wheel and started the engine

“Well at least now we know Jason is involved.” I pulled out into the street heading back to Ivorydale. “Maybe Jason ordered the hit, who knows? Or perhaps Jason ordered the hit on someone’s behalf.”

Carter only nodded. His tight expression told me he was still in severe pain.

“Should I drive you to the hospital?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Do you have some aspirin back in our room?”

“I keep some in my purse.”

Carter found the bottle and shook three out into his hand. He popped them in his mouth and swallowed them dry.

My hands were shaking on the steering wheel as I turned onto the highway. It would be faster than taking the back roads. “You might have a concussion, you know. Maybe a quick visit to the emergency room …”

“I’ve had worse head wounds, Sarah. This is nothing.”

“Fine. But if you start to feel nauseous, I’m taking you to the ER whether you like it or not.”

By the time we got back to the Inn, Carter wasn’t squinting so I had to assume he was feeling better. As we walked through the lobby heading for the stairs, Mary Garcia called out to us.

“Mr. and Mrs. Carter. How was your evening?”

Her voice startled me. I turned toward her with a smile that hopefully gave her the impression that we were too tired to stop and chat. “Wonderful, thank you.”

“A beautiful night, isn’t it? So pleased things have cooled off. The weather tomorrow is supposed to be in the seventies.”

“Sounds lovely.” I kept on walking with Carter but she didn’t seem to get the hint.

“I hope you will join us in the dining room tomorrow morning for a complimentary breakfast from eight to nine. It’s a meet and greet that we host twice a week.”

“Great. We’ll be there,” I said with a wave. “Good night and thank you.”

“Oh dear,” Mary said, giving Carter a look of concern. “What did you do to your face?”

“Must have had too much to drink,” Carter said. “I tripped on the sidewalk.”

“Do you need medical attention?” she asked.

“No, but thank you.”

 

Once we got into the room, I sat Carter down and looked into his eyes. I’ve read somewhere that if you have a concussion, your pupils dilate. Carter’s pupils seemed normal and focused. “Are you feeling dizzy at all?”

He took my hand and brought it to his lips. He tenderly kissed the top of my hand. “I think it’s sweet that you’re so concerned, but I’m perfectly fine. I’m just exhausted, that’s all. And maybe a little embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?”

He diverted his eyes. “I should have been more careful.”

“Jason ambushed you. It’s not your fault.”

He was still holding my hand, caressing with his fingers. “I should’ve been more aware. I shouldn’t have left you alone in the car. Tell me exactly what Jason said to you.”

The memory of the gun pointed at my knee was not one I’d soon forget. “He said he
would
hurt me if we kept asking questions about Nina Chapman. What are we going to do?”

Carter stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. “Let me think about it. I’ll have some ideas in the morning. Right now I just need to take a hot shower and go to bed.”

While Carter was in the shower, I removed my shoes, lay down on the bed and tried to focus on deep breathing. All I could think about was Jason’s gun and the threats of bodily harm. Were they empty threats or did this guy mean business?

Knowing Carter, he wouldn’t give up the case. Once he commits himself, he doesn’t back down. Sometimes his stubbornness gets him in trouble but usually he finds a way to circumvent disaster. I had to remind myself that being a private detective meant taking risks. In the past year and a half I’ve been threatened, kidnapped and beaten but I have
never
given up a case because of it. You learn from mistakes and push on. This career was not for the weak or the timid.

When Carter emerged from the bathroom he moved toward the opposite side of the bed and lay down on his stomach, resting his chin on his forearms.

I positioned myself so that I was straddling Carter’s lower back. I rubbed my hands together to warm them up, then placed them on his shoulders. He let out a moan of pleasure as I began to slowly work my thumbs into his flesh.

“Have you ever had a massage before?” I asked.

“Not professional. Just girlfriends.”

I was tempted to ask when the last time he had a girlfriend was but I didn’t want to spoil the mood. Instead, I remained quiet as I worked deeper and deeper into the muscles.

With closed eyes, Carter sighed with pleasure when I began working down his back, paying close attention to the muscles on each side of the spinal cord – the
erector spinae muscles
. In massage school I had to remember each muscle in the back and over twenty years later, I still know each one without thinking. Not that it matters anymore. I doubt I’ll have much use for the information, except for times like these when I’m helping a friend in need.

“Am I going too deep?” I asked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“No,” he mumbled. “It’s perfect.”

Even without massage oil, my hands seemed to glide over his skin with little effort. Time faded away and when I looked at the clock, forty-five minutes had passed. I had actually worked up a sweat and needed a drink of water. “Hey,” I whispered to him. “Mind if I take a quick break?”

No response. His eyes were still closed so maybe he was in a trance of pleasure. I nudged his arm but he didn’t budge. A faint snoring sound came from deep in his throat.

I didn’t have the heart to wake him up. I pulled the blankets up from my side of the bed and covered him.

It was almost eleven o’clock and I was beginning to feel exhausted myself. I brushed my teeth, changed into my pajamas and turned out the lights.

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