Fast Money: A Shelby Nichols Adventure

  “Yes, it’s in my pocket.”

  “Then all you have to do is call your husband, and tell him what happened. Just leave out the part about me. He’s probably at your house with the CIA right now. Tell them all you can remember about the men and what they wanted.”

  “But how will I explain how I got here?”

  “I’ll drop you off a little closer to the junkyard. They will find evidence of a shootout. Tell them that another car came in and the two groups of gunmen got into a fight. That’s when you made your escape.” I crinkled my forehead in disbelief. He smiled and continued. “You were right about Inspector Salazar. He’s after you for the money, too.”

  “Good grief. Does everyone want a fast buck around here?”

  Ramos shrugged. “This will put the CIA on the right trail. When they find all of them dead, they will figure it was a shootout and they all killed each other. It’s perfect!”

  “But Inspector Salazar isn’t really here…”

  Ramos smiled, and I realized my shields were still up and I’d missed that. “He’s here, and I know where. It won’t be too hard to bring these rivals together, and my work will be done, and you will be safe.”

  He made it sound like he was doing it all for me. I wasn’t sure I liked that. “What about the money?”

  He frowned. “You’d better put it someplace where you can make a little interest on it, because Manetto’s going to want it back.”

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Already done.”

  “Good. Let’s go”

  As we drove closer to the junkyard, I went over my story with him. Satisfied, he dropped me off in the parking lot of a discount store around the corner. “I’ll be watching,” he said, and drove away. I pulled out my phone and called Chris. He answered on the first ring.

  “Shelby? Where are you? Are you all right?” His voice was frantic, and I was sorry to put him through that.

  “Yes, I’m fine. I got away.” He was at home with the CIA, just like Ramos thought. I told him where I was and he told me to stay put while they came to get me. While I was waiting, I scanned the parking lot for any sign of Ramos, but he had disappeared. I also couldn’t help looking for a white van, but after searching for a moment, decided it would be safer to wait inside.

  The black SUV pulled into the parking lot, but I waited until Bristow, Shaw and Chris got out. As soon as Chris stepped out of the van, I ran out the door and into his waiting arms. I realized then how frightened I’d been, and what a close call it was. He held onto me tightly, and didn’t let me go all the way home.

  We got back to my house, and I noticed the kitchen rugs were messed up, and Bristow was walking with a limp. There were also several more agents there, including some with FBI on their jackets. Bristow introduced me to the FBI agent in charge and explained that since it was a kidnapping, his agency was involved as well.

  We sat in the living room, and I was grateful to have Chris’ arm around me for this part. Bristow rubbed his ankle, and I felt a guilty flush rise to my cheeks.

  “What happened to your foot?” Chris asked, making small talk to ease the tension.

  “I don’t know,” Bristow drew his brows together. “I got darted in the back, and it kind of hurts there, but my ankle feels like someone stepped on it or something.” He focused his attention on me. “I’d sure like to know what happened after I blacked out.”

  I took a deep breath and began my story. “You slumped, and it kind of took me by surprise. I tried to catch you, and with your weight, we ended up on the floor. You were on top of me.” Chris stiffened beside me, and Bristow flushed a bright red. That was probably too much information. “When I felt the dart in your back, I knew something bad was happening and I was in trouble. The door was still open, and I had to roll you off me to shut it. When I shoved the door closed, your foot was in the way.”

  As the truth dawned on Bristow, I grimaced. “Sorry about that.” The rest of my story went pretty much how Ramos and I practiced it. I ended it by telling them about the shoot-out at the junkyard. “I don’t know what’s going on, but when they started shooting at each other, I was able to get away.” Bristow and Shaw glanced at each other, impressed that I held it together well enough to escape. They were thinking it made sense, but something was missing.

  “Do you think they were both part of the same drug cartel that kidnapped Uncle Joey?” I asked, trying to help them figure it out. “If they were, why were they shooting at each other?”

  Bristow was wondering the same thing. He narrowed his eyes and glanced at me. “Tell me again about the phone call.”

  I told them about Inspector Salazar, and that he’d called me twice. “It wasn’t until the second time that he called Manetto my uncle. He must have thought I could get the money because of that. But the guys who kidnapped me were different.”

  Shaw perked up. “How?” he asked.

  “They said the money was theirs,” I answered. “And they wanted me to get it for them because Uncle Joey stole it.”

  “So it’s like two different groups fighting over the same money,” Chris said. “And they both came after you without knowing about each other?”

  “It looks that way,” I said. I didn’t want Chris to say too much, so I squeezed his leg kind of hard. I heard his inward yelp and sent him an apologetic smile. He was thinking I didn’t have to do that, since he knew not to tell them about the money. Geez. He wasn’t a moron. Oops. Now I was in trouble with Chris.

  “Do you think they’ll come after me again?” I asked Bristow.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “Only if they think you still have the money, I suppose.” He thought that was the only reason they came for me in the first place. He glanced at me again, trying to assess if I was lying or telling the truth. Both groups thought I had the money. Now why would they think that?

  “I never should have called Mr. Manetto Uncle Joey. That must be why they came after me.” My stomach clenched and tears came to my eyes. The pressure from the CIA, and all I’d gone through, was catching up with me. “I’m so sick of this mess. I wish I’d never taken that stupid job.” This time I wasn’t acting. I turned my face into Chris’ chest, letting the tears soak his shirt. The realization that I’d almost been killed sent shudders through my body.

  Chris held me tight, soothing me with his words that everything would be all right. I calmed down, and the tears stopped. Shaw offered me a tissue, which I gratefully accepted. Back in control, I apologized. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay,” Bristow answered. “We’ve got agents looking for the van. If we find anything, we’ll let you know.”

  “Do you think they’ll come back?” I asked.

  “We’ll keep your house under surveillance for a few days,” the FBI agent spoke for the first time. “But I don’t think they’ll try here again. I think after this, they’ll go after Mr. Manetto’s people.” He was thinking that he wouldn’t be surprised to have a few dead bodies show up. All of them probably from Mexico.

  Bristow wanted to get his hands on Uncle Joey. Word had reached him that one of the main drug lords had been killed, along with most of his organization. If Uncle Joey had done that, he wanted to know why, and then he wanted to thank him. He didn’t think the people who had come here would survive for long. This might be one of those times when he didn’t dig too deep. Let them kill each other off, and save him the worry of losing his own people. He felt sorry for me though.

  “I think he’s right.” Bristow nodded toward the FBI agent. “We’ll let them take care of this, but please call me if you get any more phone calls. Especially from Mr. Manetto. I’d like to ask him a few questions myself.” He handed me his card and left with the others.

  Chris closed the door behind them, and I sank deeper into the couch, finally relaxing. Chris sat beside me, equally drained by the day’s events. “So, is that what really happened?” he asked.

  “Not exactly,” I said. “Ramos is the one who pulled into th
e junkyard and saved me. He’d been following those guys and knew they were after me.”

  “How did he know that?”

  I told Chris the whole story about Uncle Joey, his son, and Carlotta. “It was losing his phone that got me involved. They found out about the money transfer and everything. That’s why they came after me.”

  “So how does the story with the two groups come in?” Chris asked.

  “That part is true. One group is the guys who kidnapped me wanting their money back. The other group belongs to Inspector Salazar who’s after me for the ransom money.”

  “He’s here too?” Chris asked. He was thinking it was getting ridiculous.

  “I guess so, at least according to Ramos he is. Ramos has been watching both of them. That’s why he came up with the story about the shoot-out. He’s hoping to make it happen for real, or at least make it look like that’s what happened once he finds them.”

  “So,” Chris said. “He’s planning on taking them all out?”

  “Yes.”

  Chris nodded, like it was something he’d expected, but was thinking how he’d like to go with him and make sure they were all dead.

  Then he’d like to find Uncle Joey and put a few dozen bullet holes in him too. This whole thing was his fault, and when Manetto got back, he was going to tell him to leave me the hell alone. And if he ever did something like this again, it would be the last thing he ever did. His lips turned into a grim line as he envisioned doing all this, and it made me a little nervous.

  It was time to calm the raging beast, but all his violent thoughts reminded me about Mercer, and I wondered if Dimples had him behind bars. I didn’t want to bring it up with Chris in this mood, but I thought it was something that would be good to know.

  I checked the home phone to see if there were any messages. Nothing. I knew there weren’t any calls on my cell phone, so I guessed Dimples hadn’t called. Did that mean Mercer was still out there? Not good.

  “What are you doing?” Chris asked, coming out of his vengeance trance, and noticing the phone in my hand.

  “Just wondering if Dimples had called. He’s supposed to have Mercer in custody by now.”

  Chris shook his head, and his shoulders slumped. He wondered how this day could get any worse. In the excitement, he’d forgotten all about Mercer. Maybe he’d better get his gun loaded and carry it in the waistband of his pants at the small of his back like the guys on TV. He should have bought that shoulder holster he’d been looking at after all. Even with the FBI watching the house, that wouldn’t stop a trained assassin. “Honey, you’d better get your stun gun recharged.”

  “Good idea,” I said. “But before you load the gun, let me call Dimples and find out what’s going on.”

  He glanced at me narrowly, scrunching his eyes together. Didn’t I believe in following my own rules about not reading his mind? What was up with that?

  I ignored him and made the call. Another detective picked up the phone, telling me that Dimples was unavailable. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was avoiding me. “That’s okay,” I said. “This is Shelby Nichols. Maybe you can help me. I just need to know if Mercer is in custody.”

  “Um…I think that’s where Harris is right now. Out to apprehend the guy.”

  “Will you tell him to call me as soon as possible?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he answered. I thanked him and hung up. Turning toward Chris, I explained what he told me.

  “So the bottom line is…he’s not in custody yet,” Chris said. With nervous energy, Chris jumped up and went into the bedroom for the gun.

  “Are you sure that’s necessary?” I asked, trailing behind.

  Chris sent me a tight-lipped grimace and nodded. I shook my head and followed him, needing to put my stun flashlight in to re-charge. “I still think you should wait. It’s only three in the afternoon. He could be behind bars before the day is over.”

  He stopped and I bumped into him from behind. Turning, he grabbed me by the arms and gave me a little shake. “Do you realize you could have been killed today? And that was from some people we didn’t even know about. We know about Mercer, and I’m not taking any chances.”

  His eyes were hard and his grip intense. It didn’t take a mind reader to know he had reached his limit. “Okay,” I said. It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize for this mess, but I held back, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His grip relaxed and he pulled me into his arms and held me tightly, like an apology for being so rough.

  In our bedroom, he methodically loaded the gun, making sure the safety was on, and put it in the waistband of his pants. “Do you have Ramos’ number?”

  “What?” That hit me out of the blue, and I realized he was shielding his thoughts from me. “Wait just a minute, you are not going to get involved with Ramos. Defending me is one thing, but going after those guys is not…you can’t!”

  He shook his head before I finished. “It’s not what you think. I don’t want to get involved in that. I just want Ramos to let me know when those guys are out of the picture, so I don’t have to worry about them.”

  “You already don’t have to worry about them,” I said. “Ramos will take care of it. That’s what he came here to do.”

  I caught a flicker of annoyance from Chris, and I realized that wasn’t the real reason he wanted to call Ramos. He wanted help to get rid of Mercer, and figured Ramos was the man for the job.

  “Chris,” I said. “You’re freaking me out. Let Dimples do his job. They’ll get Mercer.”

  “Yes, but can they put him away for long?” he asked. “He might go to prison, he might not. Even if he does, he’ll get out someday. Then where will you be? He’ll come after you. He won’t rest until you’re dead.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Ramos about him and see what he says.” With that I left to get dinner started.

  Trying to act normal around a couple of teenagers and an angry husband frazzled my nerves. I could only smile and sound positive for so long. Especially when I was the only one trying. The good thing about it was that my children, being the self-absorbed teenagers that they were, mostly ignored me. It kind of hurt that they didn’t notice the strain I was under, but on the other hand, it was good that they were oblivious.

  Chris didn’t want to tell them about any of this, and I concurred. We would tell them if they needed to know, and only then.

  At eight-thirty p.m. the phone rang. My heart sped up, hoping it was good news. “Hello?” I said.

  “Shelby,” Dimples answered. “Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. It’s been a long day.”

  “Is Mercer in custody?” I needed to know. Now.

  “That’s what I’m calling to tell you.” He paused. “It’s bad news. We tried to pick him up, but he’s gone, and we don’t know where he is.”

  I had a feeling that would happen, but hearing it was ten times worse. “What do you mean? He can’t be gone. He wants to kill me. Do you know how that feels?”

  “I’m sorry, Shelby. I can keep the patrol cars in your neighborhood for a little longer. Until we catch him.” He took a deep breath. “If you had actually witnessed him killing someone, we could put you in the witness protection program, but all we have are your premonitions, and they don’t qualify for that sort of thing.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” I couldn’t help the sarcasm in my voice.

  “We’re not going to stop looking. We’ve got several leads, and we’ll follow them until we track him down.” His voice got louder, like he was trying to convince me of his sincerity.

  “It’s okay,” I answered. “Right now the FBI is watching the house because of an incident that happened earlier.”

  “What? What are you talking about?”

  I decided to tell him a shortened version of my day. When I finished, there was silence on the other end. “Dimples? Are you there?”

  “I don’t know how you do it, Shelby.” He sounded stunned. “Why didn’t you tell me about the CIA and
the phone calls? I might have been able to help you.”

  “Honestly, I didn’t think about it. I never thought this would happen – that’s for sure.”

  “So now, besides an assassin for hire, you’ve got a crooked inspector and a Mexican drug cartel after you as well?” His voice got higher with each word. I was sure if I could hear his thoughts, there would be plenty of swearing going on.

  “Um…look on the bright side,” I said cheerfully. “Maybe Mercer will get caught in the cross-fire and we won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  Dimples groaned. “Just stay home tonight. Don’t go anywhere.” As an afterthought he added, “By any chance, did you tell the FBI about Mercer?”

  “Ah…no. I didn’t think about that. I guess I was hoping he’d be in custody by now.” That was probably not the nicest thing to say, and I immediately regretted it. He groaned again, letting me know I’d hit him below the belt, and I felt bad. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not your fault”

  “Just tell me who the FBI agent is so I can call him and let him know about Mercer.”

  I gave him the name and he hung up, promising to call me if he heard anything new. It was a phrase that was starting to sound familiar.

  Now I had to tell Chris that Mercer was still out there. How would he take it? There had to be something I could do. Then it hit me! What an idiot I’d been. The solution to the problem was in front of me all along. If Ricky had known who Mercer was, I was sure Ramos knew him, and probably Uncle Joey as well.

  All I needed to do was tell Uncle Joey to let Mercer know I was off limits, and if he ever came near me, he was as good as dead. Mercer would understand those kinds of threats. If that didn’t work, I could always offer him money not to kill me. I had five million dollars for Pete’s sake. That idea probably wouldn’t work, since there were so many things wrong with it, but it was something to think about.

  So really, Chris was on the mark when he wanted to talk to Ramos, only in a different way than he was thinking. I shouldn’t hesitate to use the resources I had to keep my family safe. I tried not to think about how this might keep me indebted to Uncle Joey, but seriously, he owed me. Big time.