CHAPTER Forty-one
I followed Jasper out toward the dock. He was all business, and angry to the point of fury. “Daddy shouldn’t be messed up in this thing. I told Jefferson that, but does he ever listen to me. No.”
He moved quickly down the trail. I was having a hard time keeping up. I’d known this land once, a long time ago. But Jasper moved fast, without any consideration. The rain didn’t help either. It beat a steady tattoo on the ground, on the wide palm leaves, on the two of us.
“What’s the plan?” I said.
Jasper pulled his rain hood lower over his face and kept walking. “Make the meet with that Hope woman. Get the document and give her the money. Wait for the kidnappers to call back. Then Boone makes the trade while me and Jefferson make sure they deliver their end.”
“What if they just take the document?”
“They won’t.”
“What if Hope doesn’t show?”
“She will.”
“But—”
Jasper spun around and faced me, flinging raindrops. “You act like we ain’t never done this before. That’s why you’re in the dockhouse, and we’re dealing with the hard stuff. Now shut up and keep moving.”
He wasn’t happy to be mustered on my behalf, but he’d soldiered up. He’d always been clever in a mercenary way, and I suspected he saw an opportunity to move up in his father’s ranks, usurp Jefferson even. I fell in beside him, huddled inside Trey’s jacket.
“They’re cops, you know. Bad ones.”
“I know.”
“Why would cops want an old Civil War document?”
“There’s paper worth killing for. Dying for too.” His voice dripped with contempt. “You wouldn’t know, though, would you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You abandoned your people. Now you want back in when things get tough. It don’t work that way, cuz.”
I didn’t take the bait. He could dangle that KKK propaganda all he wanted. He was helping get Trey back; the rest didn’t matter. But there was no way in hell I was standing around waiting while Trey’s life hung in the balance. And it was time Jasper knew that.
I stopped. “I’m not gonna do it, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Stay locked up in that dockhouse.”
Jasper kept walking. “Daddy said—”
“Boone thinks I’m still twelve. But you know better. You know what I can do.”
Jasper stopped. He examined me over his shoulder. “I reckon I do.”
“I can drive, I can play lookout, I can shoot, I can fight. Let me help get him back because I swear to God, Jasper, nothing means as much to me as that man. Nothing.”
He didn’t reply at first. I couldn’t see his expression in the dark, but I saw him nod.
“Sure, cuz. Whatever you say.” He started walking. “Come on. But you gotta do what I tell you to do, you hear me? None of this go-your-own-way bullshit.”
“Whatever you say.”
As we neared the next clearing, a group of Boone’s other men were coming up the path from the dock. They were ready for action too—dark rain slickers covering a multitude of weapons, heavy boots, gloves.
Jasper held out a hand. “Wait here. I’ve got to get some things straightened out.”
The three men met Jasper in a huddle under the single light. Two were brawny hard men, but one was small and slim. Unlike the others, his face was pale and tight, and he looked sweaty, maybe even sick. Jasper talked, they listened. They nodded, agreeing to do what he told them. They did it resenting the hell out of me, but they did it.
They continued on to the house, leaving Jasper and me to head for the dock alone. I turned to watch them walk up the narrow path. The biggest one was laughing, but his friend was serious. The pale one shot one last look over his shoulder, glaring at me with more than resentment, more than hate even.
Satisfaction.
“Come on,” Jasper said.
He hurried down the path into the woods, out of the light. I followed, Jasper’s shape indistinct in the diffuse darkness. He moved swiftly and surely, accustomed to being in charge.
The realization came like a jolt of electricity. It left me heady, dizzy, almost paralyzed.
I stopped. “Wait.”
Jasper turned around. “What’s wrong?”
I put a finger to my lips, Trey’s gun heavy at my side. The night and the wind and the rain played tricks. Half-light and half dark, shifting and impossible to trust. I moved closer to Jasper.
But not too close.
I lowered my voice. “Did you hear that?”
He froze. “Hear what?”
“Somebody’s coming.” I pointed. “Over there.”
He peered into the dark marsh, his face obscured by the rain hood. I took one deep breath and slammed my heel sideways into his knee. He screamed and went down, one hand going for his gun, the other grabbing at me.
I snatched free. And I ran.
Blood, Ash, and Bone
Tina Whittle's books
- Blood & Beauty The Borgias
- Blood Gorgons
- Blood of the Assassin
- Blood Prophecy
- Blood Twist (The Erris Coven Series)
- By Blood A Novel
- Helsinki Blood
- The Blood That Bonds
- Blood Beast
- Blood from a stone
- Blood Harvest
- Blood Memories
- Blood Music
- Blood on My Hands
- Blood Rites
- Blood Sunset
- Bloodthirsty
- The Blood Spilt
- The Blood That Bonds