CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Billboard glanced at the clock on the wall of the conference room. He knew Del would wrap up the meeting soon. The man wanted to get home to his family as much as some of the other guys did, so they rarely worked late these days. The previous week had been incredibly busy, with several jobs concluding, and they thought they’d have a little breathing room. But this morning a raft of new cases had come in, and Del was just now making new assignments.

There was no reason for Billboard to be in any hurry. He and O’Shea weren’t seeing each other tonight. He’d be going home to mow the lawn, probably in the dark if Del didn’t stop talking.

Billboard’s phone rang in his pocket.

He got that snarky eyebrow from the boss, so he ignored the call.

When it rang again not twenty seconds later, Billboard got a funny feeling in his gut that this was something he couldn’t ignore. With glares in his direction, he pulled his phone out and looked at the screen.

“It’s Ethan,” he told everybody before he connected.

“Yo, little man. What’s up?”

“They took her! She told me to run, and I did. But I circled back to make sure she was okay and they TOOK HER!!”

“Slow down, Ethan,” Billboard barked, already on his feet. “Who took who?”

His teammates rose at those ominous words, their eyes glued to Billboard.

“O’Shea was out back getting the grill ready for the steaks,” Ethan panted as if he’d been running hard. “I was in the living room playing video games. All of a sudden, she yelled at me to run, so I did.”

“Good, Ethan. Good. Then what?” Billboard was already out the main office door, standing at the elevator with all the guys right behind him.

“I know I was supposed to hide like you taught me, but I couldn’t just leave her. There were two guys. One came after me, but I ran around the house to lose him, then watched from a completely different direction. I saw the man give up and come out of the woods, but that’s when I saw that the other guy had O’Shea’s wrists tied and a bag over her head. They threw her in a white van and drove away.” Ethan ended with his voice in a panic.

“Ethan. Take a breath. You did fine,” Billboard told him, trying to tamp down his own fear. Fuck! O’Shea had been taken. She was probably, right now, in the hands of a man who was known to be abusive, and who also didn’t tolerate anyone standing up to him. Especially a woman.

What the hell would Jakes be doing to O’Shea right now?

“I got the license plate, Billboard,” Ethan added hopefully, and he rattled it off.

“That’s good, Ethan.” Billboard wasn’t sure, yet, whether they’d need it or not. But he was about to find out. Sucking in a deep breath, he asked the next, all-important question. “Do you know if they took the safe from the garage, too?”

There was no hesitation.

“Yeah. They did. Was there money in it? Was it a robbery? If it was, why did they take O’Shea?” Ethan’s questions kept coming, but Billboard had work to do, and needed to shut him down.

“There was something better than money in the safe, Ethan. Something that will help us get O’Shea back,” Billboard told him, hoping it was true. The elevator arrived and they all piled in. “Where are you and your mother, now?”

“I’m hiding back in the woods, and my mother is headed home. I called her first. Before you,” he added, somewhat guiltily.

“That’s fine, Ethan. You need her to be safe, too, so listen to me. You may not be secure at your house. Call your mother back and have her meet you down the street. As soon as she shows up, I want you to get in the car and have her drive to SOS headquarters. Mizzay will be waiting there for you.”

He glanced down apologetically at the petite woman who’d accompanied the group down to the garage. He knew she wanted to join them in getting O’Shea back, but…

“Yah. Fine,” Mizzay huffed, holding the elevator door open while she stayed inside. “But youze all owe me. And you better bring O’Shea back in one piece, or I won’t be responsible for who I send in to cap that rat bastard, Barnie.”

Billboard’s sentiments exactly.

“You understand everything I said, Ethan?” Billboard questioned, getting back to the boy.

“I do. I’m moving now so I can see my driveway.”

“Good boy. And if the bad guys come back…”

“I’ll hide again, then call my mother and warn her not to come at all.”

“Perfect,” Billboard praised. “Then you’ll get right back to me and we’ll send someone to find you both and keep you safe.”

“Got it.” Ethan didn’t hang up. “Billboard? Call me when you get O’Shea?”

“Will do, Ethan. Now, I gotta go.”

Billboard disconnected, then looked at his crew who were all waiting for details. He gave them a condensed version of the story as they walked to their stable of vehicles. Del was already bringing something up on his phone.

“The tracker we put in the safe says O’Shea is at a location on the outskirts of town.” He rattled off the address. “I’ll drive. Sarge, call Daire and Brent and have them meet us there. Have them bring ropes and climbing equipment in case we need to breach from the roof.”

“Got it, boss.” Sarge was immediately on his phone.

They all piled into one SUV. It was tight, even for six of them because they were all so big, but they weren’t going to waste time figuring out the coordination of a caravan. Billboard and the rest knew that every second counted.

And it was time to give Del kudos.

“Thanks for putting that tracker in the safe, boss,” Billboard spoke gruffly. “If you hadn’t…”

“Then one of you would have,” Del answered seamlessly.

“I’m not sure about that, Del,” Sarge put in. “That FBI agent was pretty damned aggressive about wanting that safe in her custody.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t argue too much once you agreed to give her the documents inside,” Perk interjected a little testily for him. “She was just doing her job.”

If Billboard weren’t so on edge, he’d tease Perk for coming to the defense of the prickly agent, but…

All he could think of was O’Shea, and what she was possibly going through.

****

“Bring her. And the safe.”

O’Shea recognized the voice, even though the bag was still over her head. Not that she was surprised at who was speaking. She’d known that the two goons who’d snatched her were working for Barnie Jakes, and that she’d be taken to the arrogant prick. It’s just that the trip had been a whole lot shorter than she’d imagined. They had to be in the same town where they’d started, even with the one very quick stop they’d taken for some unknown reason. It just went to show you how untouchable Jakes thought he was, to do his dirty-work right under everybody’s noses.

And speaking of assholes, he was talking again.

“You’ll regret leaving me, Anna,” Barnie’s smarmy voice said from somewhere in front of her as she was led down some stairs. Even with her head covered, she could smell the dampness. They were taking her to a basement. That didn’t bode well.

“And you’ll really be sorry you stole those papers from me,” Jakes continued. “Because as soon as I’m sure they’re all accounted for, you, my dear, become expendable,” he told O’Shea cheerfully. “The question is, do we make your death look like an accident, a suicide, or maybe…?” He addressed his minions. “Have you already roughed her up?” They paused on the stairs. “You two actually look like shit.” O’Shea assumed that Jakes had looked back.

“She fought us, boss. We couldn’t help but take a few punches, and you didn’t tell us not to.” The one who’d answered sounded a little worried.

Jakes actually snickered. “No. No. It’s all good. I don’t give a shit, because now we can make her disappearance look like a random kidnapping.”

Yup. Barnie wasn’t the least bit disturbed to find that they’d knocked around his supposed wife.

“Yes-sirree,” he speculated. “We’ll go with option three. My poor Anna was abducted and beat up, but with no evidence except her naked and bruised body, we, the good people of the town, will never find out who was responsible. How sad.”

O’Shea wanted to cause the man pain, after telling him he was a fucking lunatic. Clearly the man was delusional. With all the firepower behind Anna these days, he wasn’t getting away with diddly. But O’Shea kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t Anna. And he’d find that out soon enough. Then she’d make sure he knew that depth of the shit in which he and his cronies had just stepped. He’d be lucky if SOS let him live.

They reached the bottom of the stairs, and O’Shea braced. Would they start in on her now?

She heard some kind of scraping, then they turned and went down yet another level.

Deeper into the bowels of hell .

“Of course,” Jake’s said over his shoulder as they descended, “then I’ll have custody of Ethan, to whom I know you’ve left all your assets… my assets,” he growled. “The ones you took from me in the divorce, bitch. I’ll put up with the little shit for a few months until scuttlebutt about your death peters out, then he’ll have an accident of some kind and everything will be mine, just as it was always supposed to be.”

O’Shea wanted to throat-punch the motherfucker. What kind of man could rejoice over his own son’s death?

O’Shea needed to play everything cool until SOS came for her, then she’d make sure Jakes felt pain.

“The kid likes the woods, doesn’t he,” Barnie speculated, still plotting. “Maybe some rabid coyotes…”

They reached the bottom of the second staircase, and if anything, this one smelled danker than the first.

She heard a thunk, which was probably the safe being put down, then O’Shea was pushed into a chair. Her already bound arms were secured to the wood, and after her captors deemed her well and tied, O’Shea felt a hand at the edge of the bag.

She hauled in as deep a breath as she was able.

Show time.

The bag was yanked off.

“What the fuck?”

O’Shea blinked up at a clearly enraged Jakes.

“Surprise.” She gave him her best sneer. Better to start off as if she wasn’t intimidated by him and his asswipes.

Jake’s reached out and cuffed one of his men across the back of the head. “Do you know who this is?” he growled.

“Uh, your ex-wife?” the guy answered, rubbing his skull.

“You idiots. What have you done? This isn’t Anna. This is the bitch, O’Shea, who wanted to fuck me over at town meeting. The one who had the FBI and some group of investigative pricks all over my ass.”

Okay. O’Shea guessed she didn’t have to tell him he was fucked.

“We didn’t know,” Bloody-nose whined. Although O’Shea could see that the bleeding had stopped. She’d have to remedy that as soon as she was able.

“I had to do a lot of damage control with the police to make them think it was all a big misunderstanding.,” Jake’s resumed. “I even had to let Delaney and O’Reilly go this week; sending them to a town west of here where I know some guys. And that sucks because you know how hard it is to vet new people.”

“Sorry boss,” the second of the perps replied as he turned and took a few steps toward the rough stairs they’d just come down. “We’ll go back now and get the right chick.”

O’Shea noted that Mr. Limpy wasn’t limping anymore. Another thing she’d have to take care of.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Barnie was turning purple. “You didn’t bring the kid, which I should have your asses for anyway. But by leaving him behind, I’m sure he’s called every one of those big inquisitive pricks by now, and they’re crawling all over the place.”

“Well, don’t worry about them finding us here, boss,” the whiner said with conviction. “We weren’t followed. Just in case we were spotted, we changed out the license plates once we got out of that neighborhood. There’s no way they can trace us.”

Don’t be too sure , O’Shea thought with a smirk. Even though they were underground now, and the signal might be lost, the GPS tracker inside the safe would at least bring the team to the house’s location.

Jake’s looked up at the rough dirt ceiling and shook his head. “If I didn’t need you two, you’d be joining Delaney and O’Reilly off my payroll, but since I’ve already lost two men… Okay. Fine. I’ll figure out how to deal with this shit-show, later. Right now, I need to get into that safe.”

Damn. O’Shea had been hoping the blowhard would pontificate longer.

She was sure she wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

Jakes leaned down, getting right in her face. “I need the combination to the safe, Miss O’Shea.”

She coughed.

“Wheww,” O’Shea grimaced, scrunching up her nose and drawing her head back as far from the man as possible. “Dude. You need some serious breath mints. When was the last time you brushed your teeth?”

Jakes mouth tightened. He wasn’t amused. “Give me the combination, bitch, or you might be in danger of losing your teeth.”

O’Shea shrugged as nonchalantly as she could while bound. “Well that’s too bad, because I don’t have it.”

“You don’t have it,” Jake’s repeated, taking one step away. He hauled back his arm and slapped her hard across the face.

Shit.

Luckily, the hit was on the opposite side from where his flunkies had smacked her earlier, but it still hurt like a bitch.

“Hey,” O’Shea snarled, spitting blood at him. He hadn’t broken a tooth, but one had cut the inside of her cheek. “What don’t you understand about I don’t have it?”

“Oh, you have it, alright,” Jake’s glowered. “There’s no way my ex would have thought about putting my shit in a safe. She’s as dumb as they come, and much too trusting. If she’d hidden my papers, they’d be between her mattresses or in a shoe box in her closet.”

The guy was clueless. Didn’t he know his ex-wife at all? He was the one with putty for brains, and he was going to regret every nasty word that came out of his filthy mouth.

“She had the safe long before I showed up,” O’Shea informed him. “And she showed me where it was just in case there was trouble. What she didn’t do, was give me the combination.”

O’Shea braced for another blow, but Jake’s straightened his cuffs, glared at her, and backed away.

“Fine,” he told her. “If that’s the way you want to play it. Boys?” he addressed his two stooges. “I’m leaving her to you. Make her talk, and don’t come get me until you have that combination.”

He picked the safe up off a rough wooden table against the wall, turned, and marched up the rickety stairs without a backward glance.

The guy O’Shea had nailed in the nuts turned and gave her an evil grin.

This wasn’t going to be fun.

At all.