He spied the ass end of her car poking out of the trees and, taking aim with the rifle, shot out both tires.
No lights burned in the house, or anywhere. When the Brewers arrived home, she’d come up with a story to cover herself. But whatever she said or did, she wouldn’t get far. And he didn’t care right then in any case. Mel was the only person who mattered.
He had to get to her. Fast.
…
“You think the sheriff wants Johnny dead?” Although he sounded incredulous, Laidlaw shoved fresh clips into two of his military guns. “You sure your cousin hasn’t been doing drugs out there where he lives all alone and artsy-like?”
Melia tried Johnny again, got nothing but silence on the line. “Joseph likes wine, not drugs. I have no idea where to even begin looking for Johnny.”
Laidlaw propelled her forward. “We start by looking for Travers. We’ll never find Johnny, not in any straight-up way.”
The overhead lights flickered and died.
“Flashlights are in the pantry.” Melia oriented herself quickly, made her way over, and located two powerful emergency packs. “Ethan’s not on duty tonight, so he’ll either be at home with Cas, or at Mabel’s place. I’m leaning toward home.”
Outside, Laidlaw swung his beam in a high, wide arc. “I don’t like the timing of that power failure. Where do the wires connect to the house?”
“Look to your left.”
He angled the light up and over. “Son of a bitch.”
She saw it just as he did. Wires that should have been connected but weren’t.
She heard a sudden thump, and his light went out. “Laidlaw?”
An arm snaked around her waist, and the tip of a gun pressed into her throat.
“Well hey-ho, Dr. Rose,” a man drawled in her ear. “We meet in the flesh at last.”
Melia’s heartbeat spiked and began to race. “You’re…” Her voice wobbled. Firming it up through sheer strength of will, she drew a deep breath. “You’re the man who shot Pappy Laundy.”
It wasn’t a question, and he chuckled. “Damn right I shot the old coot. All I wanted was a bottle of his shine. What I got instead was a bloodied-up arm and his dog’s teeth in my leg. No big deal. I’ve been shot and bit by worse than the two of them.” He hawked up phlegm and spit. “Beggin’ your pardon, doc. I can’t abide spice in my diet.”
Melia ground her teeth as the gun sank deeper into her neck.
“You’re gonna wanna walk slow and careful to my truck. You’re a beautiful woman, highly sought after according to my employer. I’m supposed to hand you over to him, unharmed if possible, but a little harmed’ll do if that’s the best I can manage.”
“Now Satyr wants me alive? Why—ouch—why the change of heart?” If Satyr had a heart, which she highly doubted.
The man behind her laughed. “Oh, Satyr wants you dead, sure enough. But my boss has a boss, and he isn’t someone any of us want to mess with. You’ll die, Satyr’ll see to that. Too bad for you, you won’t do it until James Mockerie’s carved you into a thousand bloody pieces.”
…
Where would he take her? Johnny’s reeling mind refused to cooperate. Where the hell would Bigalow take Melia so Satyr could do the deed?
Assuming Satyr wanted to do the deed himself, and Mockerie didn’t intend to steal his thunder, which was definitely possible. Probable even.
Better for Mel if Mockerie did interfere, at least temporarily. He loved to torture people, especially women. Verbally first, then physically. It would give Johnny more time to find her. But could even Satyr convince him to let an opportunity like that pass him by?
Johnny didn’t think so. And he’d been thinking a lot lately. Bombs of any sort had ceased after that night at the theater. Everything had stopped, except the attempts on his life. No, chances were Melia was wanted alive rather than dead, and that had to mean Mockerie was going to horn in on Satyr’s revenge.
It was helpful—for the moment. But where the fuck would Satyr’s men take her?
He tried her iPhone as he drove hard and fast toward her home. He had to get there quickly, pick up the trail. No way would Satyr or Mockerie hurt her in the house, not with the prospect of a patient appearing at any time, and Linda and Carl likely still working down the road.
He hit the brakes in the front yard, brought his truck to a spinning halt. The dark heap to the left of the porch could only be Laidlaw. Johnny pulled his Glock, jumped out, and with his eyes in constant motion, made his way toward it.
He heard the big man moan, saw his silhouette stir. Laidlaw squinted at the headlights that crossed the path ahead of him. “What the hell hit me?” He jerked alert. “Where’s Mel?”
“Gone.” Johnny glanced at the darkened house and took note of the dangling electrical wires. “I’ll make a quick search. You know the area. Think about where he might take her.”
He used Laidlaw’s flashlight inside and discovered nothing of value. Certainly, no Mel. So…he was down to deductive reasoning. There had to be something, no matter how farfetched it might seem.
“Who’s the muscle, do you know?” Laidlaw demanded when Johnny reappeared. He sounded woozy, but pissed. “I didn’t see a damn thing before I got hit, and I’m good.”
“Guy’s name’s Drew Bigalow.” Johnny stuffed his gun in the waistband of his jeans. There was no one there. “Drew Jubal Bigalow. Or, more correctly, Andrew Jubal Bigalow. Andrew Jubal,” he repeated in disgust. “We know him as AJ.”
Chapter Seventeen
“You helped Percy at his shop.” Locked in the passenger seat of her captor’s truck with her wrists tied, Melia got her first clear look at the man who’d taken her. “He picked up the habit of spitting from you. His wife didn’t like it.”
“Hey, we all have our things.”
She had to keep him talking. She couldn’t, wouldn’t give in to the panic scrambling in her belly. Forcing herself to breathe, she asked, “Why the bear grease in your hair, and the camouflage on your face?”
“It’s a disguise, doc. Use your brains. I know you have ’em. As AJ, I’m just like any other worker you’d see around town. Curly haired, with plenty of empty real estate between my ears. But then I’m the Hulk, and man, I’m mean when I’m green. I’d show you just how mean if I hadn’t been promised a fat bonus for delivering you in the best possible condition.”
“Did you hurt Percy?”
“Fuck no, only Felcher. And some other asshole who was poking around outside your clinic before I blew it up. He offered me a drink. I whacked him on the head. Then the building blew. So long, asshole.”
Her temper flared, momentarily blotting out fear. “Are people like you born without hearts, or do they get squeezed out by greed later in life?”
Grinning, he whipped his gun up. “I can shoot off one of your ears, drive this truck, and answer your question all at the same time. Wanna see me do it?” He snickered when she fell silent. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Despite the terror jittering inside her, Melia recognized the area of swamp they were driving through. They’d passed Steve Saxon’s place a while ago. The trees and bushes were thickening, and the ground was becoming boggy and uneven. Black clouds blocked the stars and moon, and they’d left any street lights back in Deception Cove.
She’d shut Gomer and Pepper in a room upstairs so her patients wouldn’t be disturbed. God only knew what condition Laidlaw might be in. And Johnny…
Releasing a shuddery breath, she told herself he’d come. He’d find her. She had no idea how, but he would. She needed to believe that or fear would simply overwhelm her.
The man, AJ, ignored her after that. He glanced over a few times and chuckled, but as for talking…no.
Pressing her lips together, Melia watched the trees and knolls roll by. At one point, Spanish moss covered the truck’s windshield.
They were deep in the swamp then, but she smelled more than the rich spice of plant life. Stills carried a scent all their own, especially when they were up and running.