Chapter 24 – Or Else
Grady –
I stand at the opening of Crew’s barn and watch as Jarvis lays another man, Stafford, out flat. Stafford, who is lying face down, just laid the rest of them out, so he’s no slouch. After being away for so long, seeing their improvements is impressive, but Jarvis stands out.
I fought for him to be here, so it feels good to be right.
This is the first time I’ve been back since I was captured. I had an early morning appointment I’ve been anxious about and decided to stop in here before getting back to Maya. I left her with my sisters at Crew’s house so she’d be close to him while I was gone. But I need to get back to her. The girls are heading into the city for the day, thank fuck.
“I think he’s ready.” I look over at Crew and he juts his chin toward Jarvis. “He’s tested out of three languages, but he was already fluent in French and Spanish. He can keep working on the Middle Eastern languages as he goes, but he has a good enough start, he should be able to travel with no problem.”
“Has he learned to control himself?” I ask, as I watch Jarvis unnecessarily pressing the guy who’s clearly pinned, into the mat with his knee.
I hear Crew huff one laugh. “Enough that he won’t get himself killed. The rest of his intensity should only serve him well—I think it’s what makes him who he is. He’ll be in high demand soon enough.”
I turn to Crew and cross my arms. “I’ll be back once all this shit gets settled with Maya. She’s agreed to take a couple days off work, but eventually she’ll need to get back to the Ranch, and I’ll have to be there with her. After that—count me in.”
“I wouldn’t speak too soon if I were you.” I look out the door and it’s Asa.
As he approaches, his eyes are on me. “I just got off the phone with my source at the FBI. You’re gonna be getting a phone call, and before you chew my ass for giving them your information, know that I had to convince them to contact you instead of Maya. They want to talk to both of you, but they have a laundry list for her.”
As he speaks, my phone vibrates. I step outside to take the call that’s listed as unknown on my screen. “Cain.”
“Mr. Cain, this is Special Agent Jason Gordon from the FBI Organized Crime Task Force in Buffalo. I need to speak to you about an incident that happened yesterday at the regional airport there. We have surveillance video of a gunshot and standoff before you boarded your plane.”
I pause even though I’m not worried. If they’ve got video, they know we did nothing wrong. But he doesn’t wait for me to respond.
“I also need to interview Ms. Maya Augustine about yesterday, regarding her connection to Weston MacLachlan.”
“What about her connection to Weston MacLachlan?”
“We’ll discuss that in person. I’m en route as we speak, and should be in your area soon. I’d appreciate your cooperation as this is urgent and time-sensitive. Where can we meet?”
I have never dealt with the FBI, we’ve always let Asa take on that responsibility as our main contact. Time sensitive and urgent can’t be good when it comes to them.
“There’s a vineyard close to where I’m located. Whitetail. Give me your ETA, we’ll meet you there. I’ll make sure we have a private place to talk.”
We work out the details, and I’ve got some time before they get here to explain to Maya we’ll be having a conversation with the FBI about her ex.
When I turn back to Asa, he says, “Sorry that happened so fast, but it seemed urgent when my guy called to get your information. You have nothing to be worried about, they only want information.”
“I’m not worried.” I slide my phone into my pocket. “We’re not the ones who ambushed others on the tarmac, and they have the surveillance video. I’m ready for this to be over.”
“My guy didn’t give me much, but I got the feeling something’s happened to move their case along. Up until now, they’ve been in a holding pattern,” Asa adds.
“If it means they’re close, I’ll take it.” I turn to Crew. “I told them we could meet at the tasting room—they don’t need to be here. Can you call Addy and set that up?”
“Sure,” he pulls his phone out to make the call.
“You back, Cain?” I look over and Asa’s got a shit-eating grin on his face.
I shake my head, and as I turn to make my way back to the house where my sisters are surely torturing the woman who’s wearing my ring, I answer, “Yep, but only because I missed fucking with you, old man.”
As I walk away, I faintly hear Asa say to Crew, “It sure hasn’t been the same without him.”
*****
Maya –
“Byron Murray is dead.”
I feel my body go tense and Grady instantly squeezes my hand, but otherwise he doesn’t show any signs of alarm.
“Come again?” Grady calmly asks for clarification from where he’s sitting beside me.
“But,” I start and try to find my breath, my voice edging on hysterical. “You just said you have video surveillance at the airport. He might’ve been knocked silly, but I’m almost certain he wasn’t dead.”
“Ma’am—”
“No, I’m positive—he was not dead,” I interrupt. “He was still sort of fidgeting around on the ground when we got on the plane, kind of like a turtle stuck on his back.”
“We—”
“Tell him,” I turn to Grady, “that he would’ve shot you had you not knocked the gun from his hand. Tell him.”
“Baby,” Grady lowers his voice and squeezes my hip where he’s got his arm around me. “Let him talk.”
We’re sitting in the basement inglenook at Whitetail for privacy. Grady and I are on the big sofa and the agent is sitting across from us in one of Addy’s big leather chairs.
Grady came to get me this morning and told me the FBI wanted to question us about what happened yesterday. We just sat down and he started by informing us Byron is dead—even though he was very much alive when we escaped yesterday.
“We know he was alive when you left the airport. We have solid information he was killed later in the day, although we haven’t located his body yet. We’re working on leads,” Special Agent Gordon explains.
“Oh.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Honestly. He could’ve shared that bit of information first, but who am I to tell the FBI how to conduct interrogations? Even though he assured us this is nothing more than a fact-finding trip, talking to the FBI is worrisome, nonetheless.
“Ms. Augustine, can you tell me what you know about MacLachlan Industries?” He flips a piece of paper on his notepad to take notes.
“They’re importers. More like shipping, I guess. They ship a lot of produce from Central America,” I share.
“Do you know of anything else, anything questionable? I know you were with Weston a long time, you’re bound to be close to his family, too. Ever hear anything?”
“No, everything always seemed on the up-and-up, but I didn’t ask or even think to be on the lookout back then,” I answer.
“How long have you been estranged from Weston MacLachlan?” Gordon asks.
I can’t help but grimace. “I broke off our engagement well over a year ago. But he’s an insistent man and wouldn’t take no for an answer. When the pressure got to be too much, I left. No one knew where I was until recently.”
“Ms. Augustine—” Gordon starts before I interrupt.
“Please, call me Maya.” I’ve been called Ms. Augustine my entire life, even as a young girl. I hate it.
“Maya,” he goes on. “Before yesterday, have you ever felt in danger? From Weston MacLachlan or anyone around him?”
I look over and Grady gives me a nod, so turning back to Gordon, I reluctantly lay it all out. “Yes, that’s why I left. Weston never threatened me directly, but Byron, the one you said is dead? He did.”
“How did he threaten you?” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I overheard something. It was at my parents’ house before I left, during one of my mother’s attempts to get me back together with Weston. After that, I was approached by Byron and was told if I didn’t get on board, I’d be in trouble. That was when I figured out they were involved in some type of organized crime.”
“What did you overhear that would cause them to give you such an ultimatum?”
My eyes go big and I bite my lip.
“Maya.” Gordon gives me a small frown. “Your ex-fiancé is involved in nefarious activities and incidents. Please don’t feel the need to protect him.”
“Oh, no.” I shake my head quickly. “I have no desire to protect him. It’s just, I overheard him talking to his dad and he said he killed someone. They realized I was there, tried to cover it up, but in the end I didn’t believe them. That’s when Byron came to give me my options. And my options weren’t good. They told me to either get back together with Weston, or else. I figured I knew what that meant and decided to get the hell out of there.”
I feel Grady give me another squeeze, and this time I relax into his side.
I watch the agent lean back in his seat with an assessing look—and I don’t like it one bit.
I must not have imagined it, because Grady demands, “What aren’t you telling us?”
“You were right to feel threatened. We have inside intelligence that says you’re considered a liability by the MacLachlan family, and therefore, a target.”
Well, shit. It’s one thing to assume I might be unsafe, but to have it confirmed by the FBI who has inside intelligence? That’s another level of scary.
“When Byron Murray was killed, things changed and we’ve lost our ears. We have other sources of intel, but feel those will be gone soon, as well. We don’t currently know where Weston MacLachlan is. He fled yesterday and can’t be traced by either his phone or car. He has business associates all up and down the east coast. We assume he’ll reach out to some of them for help, but I need to advise you to take extra precautions.”
“I’ve got her covered,” Grady announces. “He knows she lives and works here, along with a second job at a nearby senior center. I’ll get you the address before you leave.”
Agent Gordon gives me his business card. “You took quite a fall, we saw it on the film. It’s good to see you’re okay. I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.” I stand and Grady gives him the information he needs. When he finally leaves, I turn to Grady. “This has to be over soon.”
“It will be.” Grady takes my hand and pulls me to the stairs.
When we get to the main tasting room, Mary, Bev, Addy, Evan, Van, and even Morris, are crowded around the bar. When we get closer I see what they’re all looking at. The crowd parts and a sleepy but happy Clara is sitting there holding a bundle of pink blankets with baby Kate peeking out the top.
“Awwww,” I drawl and get closer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to visit you in the hospital. Did you just get home?”
Clara smiles. “Yesterday. The hospital is so much more relaxing than my house. I tried to fake complications so I could stay longer, but they were on to me and kicked us out.”
Everyone laughs, and after being around her boys at the Christmas party, I don’t blame her for trying to spend extra time in the hospital.
“She’s perfect.” Jack beams as he looks down at his newborn before announcing, “I think we’re done having kids.”
Clara more than enthusiastically agrees. “Oh, we’re done. You’re making an appointment to get snipped, sooner rather than later.” Little Kate stretches, arching as she starts to wiggle. “We’d better get going. We left the boys at home with my parents and she’ll be ready to eat soon.”
We all say our goodbyes after they pack up the baby and all her necessities. After hanging out most of the morning with Grady’s sisters, then eating a late lunch with Grady in the tasting room, followed by my first ever interrogation by the FBI, the day has flown.
I guess Grady is done hanging out, because he takes my hand and we leave, following Clara and Jack out the door. He turns back to me and his face is serious when he says, “I have something I want to show you.”
When he starts driving toward the exit of the vineyard, I ask, “Where are we going?”
Grady fists his steering wheel, but doesn’t look at me as he turns left onto the two-lane highway. “Not far.”
He didn’t lie. We barely drive a half-mile when he turns onto another lane which is surrounded by a slatted white fence. We’re hardly off the road when Grady approaches a security gate and rolls down his window to punch in a code.
“Um, where are we?”
He looks back to me and smirks. “Across the street.”
I narrow my eyes instantly. “I know that.”
The gates open in front of us and Grady drives through rolling pastures, mixed with patches of woods and tree lines scattered about. Even though everything is dormant and brown, I imagine how pretty it would be lush and green, or better yet, colorful in the fall. As we come up a hill, a large home sits at the top. It’s not a typical Virginia colonial. It’s decorated in stone with crisp white trim to match the slatted fence surrounding the property, dark gray siding, and a dark stained front door and shutters.
“Seriously, Grady.” The suspense is wearing on me. “Are we here to visit someone?”
He ignores me, turns off the engine, and climbs out of the SUV. I follow suit, because I’m curious, but I also don’t like him ignoring me.
He doesn’t wait, but jogs up the steps ahead of me and goes straight to the front door.
“Grady,” I call for him again, but he’s now at the door handle and pressing more buttons on an electronic lock.
Finally, he turns to me as he opens the door and gestures for me to enter first.
I stand where I am and demand, “What’s going on?”
He still says nothing and reaches for my hand, pulling me through the threshold.
What I find is stunning.
And empty.
I take a few steps, barely glancing at what would be an office with French doors, flanked by a formal dining room across from it. I keep walking, the heels of my boots echoing on the dark hardwoods through the vast, empty space. I move until there’s nowhere to go because I’ve reached the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the property that appears to go on forever. The way the home is situated on the rolling hills, there’s no other structure or buildings in sight besides the enormous barns that match the exterior of the house we’re standing in. Off the back of the house is a stone patio, and down another few steps, is an inground pool covered for winter.
Thinking I know exactly what’s going on here, I turn slowly, vaguely taking in the spacious family room with stone fireplace that’s open to an oversized kitchen. My eyes land on Grady standing in the center of the room. His stance is wide and his arms are crossed. But unlike me, who’s taking in the details of our surroundings, his focus is solely on me.
“Are you thinking about buying this place?”